


breath of life

by thewayofthemandalorian



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Attempted murder via assassination, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil Plans, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Illnesses, Implied Sexual Content, Influenced by Snow White and the Huntsman, Kissing, Murder, Mutual Pining, Orphans, Overwhelmed Reader, Poisoning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-Starved, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayofthemandalorian/pseuds/thewayofthemandalorian
Summary: You were the ward of the generous and benevolent king. When he dies suddenly, his new, young wife has you locked away, where you stay until your escape 7 years later. She sends notorious mercenary-turned-huntsman Pero Tovar to kill you so that she may truly stake her claim upon your inheritence. What the queen isn’t counting on is Tovar taking pity on you, or the feelings that grow between you and him. Inspired by the film Snow White and the Huntsman.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am back with a new Pero Tovar fic! I’ve missed writing for him so much. This is a sort of Snow White and the Huntsman-inspired series, but without magic. This chapter sort of sets everything up and reader and Pero don’t actually meet until the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Chapter warnings: Illness, death, brief grief/mourning, imprisonment, canon-typical violence.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

Once upon a time, there lived a benevolent King and his kind and gentle wife. Beloved by all in the kingdom, the king and his wife had all that they could ever want or need. Save for one thing: a child.

Try as they might to conceive a child, it was not possible.

Rumours began to spread. Who would inherit the throne? Why was the queen unable to conceive a child?

As the years passed, the queen’s health began to wane. It started out as being nothing more than a tickle in her throat. The occasional cough. But soon enough, the medics confirmed the worst.

Though she attempted to put on a face of health and tranquility for her husband’s sake and for the sake of the people, it was clear that the life-force had been drained from her.

“John, my love,” the queen whispered as she lay in bed, the day before she would be taken from this life. “I want you to do something for me.”

The king took his wife’s hand in his. “Name it, my dear, and I shall have it done.”

His wife coughed into a handkerchief before speaking. “I don’t want you to be alone. I want - We could never have a child of our own.” The queen coughed again, harsher this time. “I want you to take someone in. A ward, a child to love and raise as though our own,” the queen said, her voice ragged and weak as another fit of coughs took over.

King John felt tears in his eyes. Why wait until now to ask him this question? “I don’t know if I can do this without you, my dearest,” he admitted, allowing his tears to fall freely.

The queen stroked his cheek. “I know you can,” she said quietly, a determined look on her face. “Mourn me, but move on from this sorrow if and when you can. Promise me.”

The king nodded, promising his wife that he would do all that she asked of him this day.

Her funeral was three days later.

True to his promise, the king, though he grieved the loss of his wife dearly, endeavoured to find a child in need of a home.

Upon a day in deep winter, he found himself at the orphanage. There were many children of different ages. Though they all needed a home, he knew he could not take them all.

When he was just about to give up on his search, a beautiful little girl, no older than seven caught his eye.

You had been in the orphanage since you were one year of age, the matron had told the king. Your parents had died of plague and your mother’s sister, already overrun with six children of her own, could not take you in.

The king knelt down before you, his voice gentle. “Do you know who I am?” he asked softly.

You nodded gravely. “The king,” you whispered, giving a clumsy curtsy.

The king’s heart melted at the gesture. He knew that he had found the perfect child for him to adopt. “I am going to take you to your new home, the palace. Would you like that?”

He smiled at your bright smile and enthusiastic nod. “Forever?!” you gasped.

Giving a laugh, the king nodded. “Forever and ever, sweetheart.”

* * *

You settled in to your new life at the castle about as well as could be expected. It was a large adjustment, becoming a ward of the king. But he loved you as though you were his daughter and you had never known any safety or security like this up until now.

Friends came easily to you. You made quick friends with the king’s nephew George as well as with the staff’s children, who were allowed to play and learn on the palace grounds while their parents worked. It was a good life you led in the palace, your heartache and turmoil in the orphanage wiped away. It was as though nothing bad could ever happen to you.

As the years passed, you and the king became as thick as thieves. He told you of his late wife, Emma, and how she had wanted him to be happy, to not be lonely.

“And are you happy?” you had asked him. You were twelve, had been in the king’s care for nearly six years.

The king paused for a moment. “I believe I am, yes. But I need to find you a mother figure, child.”

This confused you. You were happy with just the king as your parental figure, but you were certain that he didn’t have all the answers to your questions. You didn’t know how to answer, not having an answer, so you left it at that.

More time passed. You grew into adolescence with grace and beauty. Though people began to talk. Would this ward of the king inherit the throne? The king himself had given no indication one way or the other of lineage once he had adopted you as his ward.

Members of his inner circle had attempted to find him a wife, claiming that his age would start to prevent him from having a true heir to the throne. The king had balked at their choice of words, but he remembered his promise to Emma. That he would attempt to move on.

Which came in the form of Morwenna.

She was lovely, charming, and kind. Her beauty had no comparison. John fell for her the moment he lay eyes upon her, a visitor to the kingdom from a nearby country.

The marriage banns were read two days after the king had met the new queen-to-be, your would-be stepmother. She seemed happy, in love with this king, who she had under her spell.

As for you, you were excited to have a motherly figure in your life. You loved the king, but it would be nice to have another woman to confide in, to ask the questions that a man simply could not answer without a woman’s knowledge. Especially now that you were well into your adolescence. Though she did not appear to love you just yet, you hoped that, with time, you and she would become friends.

What John did not realize, however, was that this was all deceitful. She held no interest for him outside the crown that she coveted, and was already planning your departure and his untimely and _accidental_ demise.

* * *

The wedding was filled with joy, with laughter. No indication of what the wedding night would bring. You had never seen your father-figure so joy-filled before now, sitting next to his new, young bride.

Morwenna herself, you noted, looked happy. No. That was not the right word. _Triumphant_. Pleased with herself as she gazed at her new husband.

Merriment and joy filled the entire kingdom, eager to celebrate their beloved king’s new marriage.

As the celebrations continued, you having retired to bed some hours ago, the king took his new bride to the marriage suite.

Before he could consummate the marriage, however, Morwenna suggested a toast. To a long and prosperous marriage.

Drunk on his joy and want for Morwenna, John agreed, allowing her to pour the wine. He didn’t even notice what she had slipped into his goblet.

She raised her own goblet. “To a prosperous marriage,” she said, her voice low.

John drank greedily. He reached his hand out to his wife’s dress. But before he could so much as think about unlacing her dress, he collapsed to the floor, his mouth frothing and foaming. Morwenna did not even so much as blink as he choked out for help.

When the damage had become irreversible, Morwenna ran into the hallway, screaming and sobbing for help, that someone had poisoned the king. That he was dying.

You stirred at the commotion. Before you could step out into the corridor fully, someone came up behind you, a sack going over your head. No one could hear your screams, too focused on their king.

Darkness.

You came to in a cell. It was damp, cold. A figure stood just out of sight, though you knew who it was.

Joseph, Morwenna’s brother who hardly ever left her side. He’d often cast his gaze on you, which you ignored.

“What - Why am I here?” you choked out.

Joseph laughed, a sickly sound. “Treason, innit?” He relished your look of confusion.

You did not allow yourself to be afraid. Everything would be fine, you would be free soon enough. George would come for you.

As the commotion and chaos continued far below you, your hope began to wane.

* * *

_Seven years later_

Back muscles aching, you eased yourself up on your pitiable cot. Another day in this wretched tower.

Whispers had swirled from the very beginning that the king had been poisoned. It ached your heart to think that someone would want him dead. You knew who it was. _Morwenna_. It had been foolish to trust her when she had so very clearly been plotting from the beginning. It had to have been her. Joseph was the one who did her bidding. He had been the one who brought you to this wretched place.

You had learned from the woman in the neighbouring cell that Morwenna was named queen.

Not once had Morwenna come to see you. She didn’t have to. That was what her brother was for.

No word of the king’s will had been whispered in the cell tower from any of the other prisoners. Those who had defied her rule were placed in here with you. They, not knowing who you were, would whisper what had happened to the kingdom.

In seven short years, it had gone from a prosperous and peaceful kingdom to one of corruption and malcontent under her rule. Morwenna did not care about the people. Only the power.

* * *

“It is about time you delivered my beloved husband’s last will and testament,” Morwenna chided the lawyer. 

William Garin frowned apologetically. “My apologies, my lady.”

“It is _your majesty_ ,” Morwenna corrected icily.

William apologized again. “Of course. My apologies, your majesty. It appears that it was misplaced when the late king -” At this, Morwenna let out a stifled, fake sob. “- updated it.”

Pulling the will from his bag, he gestured at the queen to sit. Placing his glasses on, he began to read. “’The last will and testament of John VII Rex, dated this January nineteenth.’ I had not realized he updated it so soon before his untimely passing.” William shot Morwenna a suspicious look that she ignored. She bade him get on with it. “’I, being in sound mind and under no legal duress, declare that everything in my possession shall go to my ward.” William listed your full name.

Morwenna’s head shot up. Anger and malice replaced her previous morose expression. This time, it was genuine. “I beg your pardon?” she said icily.

William continued. “The role of monarch shall pass to her. Should she refuse it under any circumstance except for that of duress, it shall go to my nephew, George.”

The queen could not believe what she was hearing. “B-but I am his widow! His wife! I am the queen!”

William had no sympathy for her. He had his own suspicions that he could not quite place. “The legality of this will is not in question.”

Morwenna scoffed. “He made it before he was murd - before he died! Surely he meant to update it to include me. You must be mistaken, lawyer.”

William frowned. “His ward is missing, as is his nephew. As there is no other heir listed, you are entitled to the throne until we are able to find either her or George,” he explained, adding that they would be conducting a search as soon as they were able.

 _No,_ Morwenna thought, _this would not do_. This would not do at all. There was a chance, however small, that this lawyer would find that little wretch locked away in her tower. And that all of this would be for nothing.

She needed to do something.

So she did the one thing she thought she would never do. She went to the tower.

* * *

You startled when you saw the queen. For the first time in seven years, she was here to see you. “What do you want?” you asked, not in the mood to play one of her games that she usually made Joseph fulfill.

“Is that any way to speak to your queen?” demanded Morwenna.

You rolled your eyes. You were not afraid of her. “Forgive me. What do you want, _your majesty_?”

Morwenna stepped right to the cell door. “Are you pleased with yourself, you brat?” 

“Not particularly. There is nothing pleasing about where I am. What has happened to me,” you said, your resolve fading quickly.

Morwenna smirked. “Yes, I suppose so. All the same, I would be careful if I were you,” she whispered. With that, she stalked away, ignoring the pleas of help from other prisoners. You trembled, finally allowing fear to consume you.

You slept uneasily as you had for the past seven years. You knew that you had to escape this place. Find George if you could. He would protect you. Get you to safety. You had noticed a loose nail in the stone wall. If you could somehow get that free.

Aware that Joseph was watching from beyond the cell door, you were discreet in your movement, careful to not make any noise outside of deep breathing as you attempted to wriggle the sharp nail free. A drip of water in a puddle masked any of the scraping noises as it pulled free, clutched tightly in your hand.

No time like the present. You sat up.

“Hey! Lie down, go back to sleep, you wretch!” Joseph snapped.

You let out a pitiful sigh. “I can’t sleep. I feel unwell.”

Joseph stepped closer. “You don’t look unwell,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. _Stupid_. “I feel feverish, but I cannot be sure. I need you to confirm it.”

Joseph grumbled as he found the key to your cell. Steeling your nerves, you prepared yourself.

He had barely laid a hand on you when you jabbed the nail in his face, aiming for his eye. Crying out, he covered his eyes with his hand as blood trickled down his face. He was not blinded, you were sure of that, but it would leave a nasty scar.

Wasting no time, you stood up and ran out of the cell that had been your prison for the past seven years.

You raced down the stairs, your adrenaline propelling you. The castle was ghostly quiet, though you suspected it would not be for much longer as Joseph’s caterwauling filled the hallways.

The night air hit you like a wall, the first fresh air you’d breathed in years making you light-headed.

Unaware of the sentry - Ballard - watching you as you made your escape, you ran into the dark forest, free at last of that jail that had once been your home.

* * *

Morwenna was eerily calm when her brother managed to free himself and when Ballard had informed her of the runaway prisoner last night. “Well, then we shall just have to deal with that insolent little wretch, won’t we?” she said, more to herself.

“If I may make a suggestion, your highness.” Ballard spoke calmly, almost timidly, in an effort to not be on the receiving end of her ire. Morwenna glanced in his direction. “Would it not make more sense to kill this wretched girl? She is causing you more harm than good by being kept alive.”

The queen considered this. It was something she had thought of in the early years of your incarceration, but it had been when people were still asking after you. Now, all these years later, the questions had ceased. People knew not to ask or had made their own assumptions. “You are correct. Find me that warrior that is now a huntsman. He will make quick work of her.”

Six hours later, Pero Tovar stood in the court room before the queen, a surly look of contempt etched on his scarred face. “What service can I be of you, your majesty?” His voice was low, accented from a place far from here.

Morwenna was all charm. “You see, huntsman, there is a … problem that I need rectified. And you are just the person for the job.”

Tovar rolled his eyes, seeing right through her charms. “What is this problem? What do you need me?”

Pero Tovar had lost his way since returning from the east four years ago. He had no purpose. The woman he had once loved was married to another man. His childhood village had burnt to a crisp following a raid by the Norsemen. He found himself here, so far from what he knew.

“This problem is a treasonous little brat who somehow escaped her cell. She is dangerous. A threat to me. And she needs to be stopped.”

Pero read between her word _stopped_. “I do not kill people. Treasonous or not.” Though he was many things, a killer was no longer one of these.

Morwenna had expected this. “What do you want?” She placed a hand on his arm seductively. “A woman, perhaps?”

Fighting his repulsion at her insinuation, Pero removed her hand from his bicep with some force. “I want nothing you can give me. I will not do this.”

The queen turned icy, then. All pretense of charm and charisma gone. “I will kill her and her family if you do not.”

Tovar’s blood ran cold. Though he no longer loved Maria as he had once done, he would not wish death upon her or her babies. “You will not harm them,” he snarled at the queen.

“Then you will do as I bid you. And kill the king’s daughter.” Morwenna gave a description of you to Tovar.

Until now, he had thought the ward of the king to be dead or gone, fleeing in the aftermath of his death. Pero realized he had no choice. “Where do I find her?”

Recognizing Pero’s resignation, Morwenna smirked in triumph. “She was last seen running in the direction of the forest.”

* * *

You were well and truly lost. The forest was a maze when you were a child, escorted by the king or his brother and George. Now, on your own? It was a labyrinth.

Your stomach scraped with hunger. Gashes from tree branches marked your face. Mud covered your thin cotton dress from where you had fallen.

But you were free. And you were also _afraid._

It had been some time since you thought of the stories the palace children had told you of the forest. Of a witch that ate lost souls. That’s why it was impossible to escape.

 _They are just stories_ , you reminded yourself as you made your way through a thicket.

The sound of snapping twigs from behind you told you otherwise.

You turned so sharply you fell square on your behind, a gasp of fear escaping your lips.

Before you stood a man. Unkempt but not disheveled. Scarred from years of battle, you assumed. Rich brown eyes and hair to match. What seemed to be a perpetual scowl darkening his features.

You knew, before he could speak a word to you, why he was here. To kill you.

Cowering in fear, you stuttered out pitiful words. “Just do it.”

Tovar frowned. When the queen had told him that you were power-hungry and ruthless, he had been skeptical, but now that he saw you before him, weak and afraid, very clearly not an act for him to show mercy, but _genuine_ , he knew that the queen was wrong, that this was all wrong.

You looked up at your destiny, waiting for the killing strike.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun with this medieval/fairy tale AU! Thanks to everyone who left feedback on chapter one. I hope you all like this chapter as we get to see Tovar and reader begin to know each other and plans begin to form and alliances are made.
> 
> Chapter warnings: One brief description of vomiting, food mention, a smidge of mutual pining?
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

The killing strike never came.

“Get up _princesa._ ” The man’s voice was gruff, deep. You stared up at him apprehensively from where you were on the forest floor.

You shook your head, not trusting him. “You are just going to kill me. Or take me back to her.”

The hunter sighed, not for the last time. “I promise I will not harm you.” He reached out his hand to help you up.

“Forgive me for my apprehension,” you replied, distrust still overwhelming, “but I cannot trust that, given that you were sent here to kill me.”

Tovar had to give you credit, you did not give things up easily. “You are wise, _chica,_ to not trust easily.” You narrowed your eyes at him. He sounded as though he spoke from experience.

“What did she offer you?” you asked. You knew how Morwenna operated. She was full of false promises that she would vow to fulfill to get what she wanted before leaving you high and dry.

The man in front of you frowned in confusion. “What did who offer me?”

“Morwenna. The queen. That is how she gets what she wants. Without fail. She promised to love and honour the king. And then …” Well, you could not be completely sure, but you remained convinced that it had been Morwenna that had poisoned the king.

“She says that you were guilty of treason.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “That is rich, coming from her. I had nothing to do with the king’s death. Unless being asleep in my bed before being taken to the tower for seven years counts?”

Tovar frowned again. The queen had failed to mention that part of it. She had only mentioned that you had escaped a cell, never mentioned the amount of time.

“Listen to me. Let me go. Help me. Please. I do not know what it is that she promised you, but you cannot accept it. I am innocent.”

Pero hesitated, his mind racing. _If you kill this innocent creature, you will regret this for the rest of this life, regardless of what she promised you._

He had a long list of regrets, but killing you, when you had done nothing wrong, would be atop the list for the rest of his life.

“Who are you?” he asked, “The queen only said you were the king’s daughter, a _princesa_.”

Your eyebrows raised. “That is the highest she has ever spoken about me.” You told him your name. “But I am no princess”

“But you are the late king’s daughter?”

“His _ward_ ,” you corrected, explaining that you had been orphaned in infancy and the king had taken you in when you were seven.

“I will not kill you,” the hunter said finally. You simply stared at him, knowing he was not finished. “I will let you go, pretend I already found you dead when I return to the palace.”

You shook your head. “No. She will kill you if you go back without me. ‘Tis me she wants dead, with _proof_. She will not accept a simple report.” You had heard other prisoners in the tower rumbling about it for years. “So she can truly stake her claim on the throne.” The throne no part of you wanted to inherit.

The hunter was conflicted. He knew that you were right. But he was a simple man, wanting no part in this.

He also knew that you would not last two hours in the wilderness alone.

You looked up at him curiously. The weak sunlight that made its way through the canopy of the trees cast him in an almost ethereal glow as he weighed his options.

At length, he sighed again. “I promise that while you are with me, no harm shall come to you, _princesa_. I give you my word that you will be safe with me.”

“Does this mean you will help me?” you breathed.

Tovar nodded. “ _Si_ , I will help you for as long as I can.”

When he outstretched his rough, calloused hand again, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet.

* * *

“Slow down, _chica_ , you will make yourself sick.”

You were currently eating the cured meat the hunter had in his pack at high speed. It was the first proper food you’d had in _years_ , your diet having consisted of gruel and hard bread. “I do not care. I have not eaten proper meat since … since the wedding of the king and Morwenna,” you realized, your heart sinking.

Tovar nodded sympathetically. He could not even begin to fathom what had happened to you. The more information you gave, the more he regretted his decision to even _listen_ to the queen. You were an inncocent, with no malice in your heart. He simply had to look at you to know that.

“What is your name?” you asked suddenly around a mouthful of the cured meat. “You know my name. But I do not know yours. If I am to be protected by you, I should like to know what to call you.”

Pero hesitated. No one had asked his name in years. And it was one of the first questions you asked him. When he saw you looking at him expectantly he spoke gruffly. “Tovar. Most call me Tovar.”

You cast a questioning look at him. “Most people? Is that your name?”

Tovar grunted. “My family name.”

That simply would not do. It seemed hardly fair that he knew your full name, while you barely knew his family name. “Well, do you have a Christian name?”

The huntsman known as Tovar rolled his eyes. “Of course I have a Christian name, _princesa_. Hardly anyone uses it.”

You stuffed a chunk of cheese in your mouth, speaking with your mouth full again, all manners and decorum that you had learned in your youth long forgotten. “What is it?”

He grumbled something you could not hear in his mother tongue before giving you his name. “Pero. It is Pero.”

Before you could reply, you ducked your head into the nearest bush, the contents of your stomach coming back up.

As you caught your breath, a weathered waterskin came into your peripheral vision. You accepted the water from Tovar, nodding gratefully as you drank deeply, washing the taste from your mouth.

When you sat back down across from Tovar, he said nothing, the only sound the crackling of the small fire for a moment.

“Pero.” You tested the name on your lips, looking at him. It suited him. Pero Tovar. “I like it.”

Pero Tovar only grumbled and poked at the little campfire with a stray fallen tree branch, hiding the smile that tried to creep to his lips. However, you didn’t miss the twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

What you did miss was Ballard, who was scouting for you and Tovar.

* * *

Morwenna paced the throne room endlessly. She considered herself to be a patient woman most of the time, but right now, she was anything but.

“Where is he?” she snarled at her brother Joseph who had just stepped into the throne room to give an update from the sentries that had been sent out two hours ago to scout the forest.

Joseph’s expression was hesitant. “The scouts have just returned. Ballard reports that he saw the mercenary with the princ -” He cut himself off at his sister’s murderous face, correcting himself. “With t-the _fugitive_. The mercenary and the girl were sharing a meal. They were packing up as Ballard made his way back.”

Morwenna slumped into her throne, eerily calm when she spoke. “And what, pray tell, was the mercenary thinking, breaking bread with her? When I expressly told him to kill her and bring her body back to the palace?”

Joseph stumbled over his words. “You will have to ask Ballard, sister. He is the one who witnessed it.”

Morwenna shut her eyes a moment. “Fine. Send for him.”

She began to think. She should have never sent a man to do her work for her. Especially a man so weak-willed and whims as changing as the sea.

A moment later, the sentry Ballard was being escorted into the throne room, Joseph on his heels.

“Your majesty,” he greeted her with a flourishing bow. “You sent for me?” He held his hands in front of him, awaiting instructions.

“Yes, Sir Ballard. I understand you are the man who found … the prisoner?” Morwenna’s voice was velvety smooth, her frustration and anger carefully concealed beneath the surface.

Ballard chuckled nervously. “Ahh… that is correct, your majesty. I am almost positive it was the girl and the hunter.”

Morwenna frowned. “Well, which one is it, sir? Are you positive, or are you _almost_ positive?”

The sentry gulped. “Well, you see your majesty, the forest is very dark. It was hard to see. But it was the same builds as the girl and the mercenary.”

The queen felt her frustration and anger bubble to the surface. “Well, then, you shall have to put together a hunting party. One that you will lead. Captain of the Guard.”

Ballard blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. A promotion? He was sure that when he entered, the queen would have his head.

But Morwenna wasn’t finished. “I also understand you are a medic in training?” she asked, feigning interest.

The new Captain of the Guard nodded eagerly. “Yes, your majesty. It will not be long until I am a fully trained physician.”

Morwenna’s smile was saccharine sweet. “Then we shall have to make you the palace physician.”

For the second time in two minutes, Ballard could not believe what he was hearing. “A-A great honour indeed, your majesty.”

Morwenna dismissed him then. “Gather your best men and get out and find the traitorous former princess.”

Ballard bowed lowly. “Yes, your majesty.”

Morwenna should have just killed you when she had the opportunity to do so. Why she had waited this long, she didn’t know. _Weakness_ , her mother’s voice whispered in her ear.

“No, not weakness,” she said to herself. “I will have her head on a spike. And that hunter as well, for all to see.”

* * *

You and Pero were walking through the dark forest. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky. Soon it would be nightfall. You had been free from the palace for just over a day and had yet to sleep.

Your exhausted state had you stumbling and tripping over every root and fallen branch.

“ _Princesa_ , you are doing nothing but slowing us down.” You knew that Pero was right.

Yawning through an apology, you said, “If I could just sit for a minute.”

Tovar hesitated. He knew that scouts were likely to find the two of you, wanting to put as much distance between yourselves and this forest as possible before stopping for the night. He took one glance at you, your exhausted state and your sore feet, felt a twinge of guilt for demanding that you walk all the way through the fifty-acre forest. You were just over half-way through to the other side, where he could procure horses and provisions and get you to where you suspected your cousin would be.

From there, Tovar knew he could not return to the kingdom. He would be a wanted man for aiding and abetting an enemy of the queen, rightful or not. It would not be the first time that he would be adrift, lost in the sea of life.

“ _Hermosa_ , we must stop for the night. You are weary and you are no good to me dead on your feet.”

Beyond coherency, you simply nodded, curling up on the forest floor. Before Tovar could so much get a blanket from his pack, you were asleep. “Rest, _princesa,_ I will keep watch.” You shifted slightly as he draped the old, worn blanket that he had had since his days in the East over your sleeping form.

He wondered what you dreamt of. It was a surreal turn of events, he thought. How he had gone from commissioned for your death to helping you escape the clutches of the imposter queen. He wondered what you would do once you reached the prince, once he had moved on with his life.

Would you claim the throne? Would you live a life of anonymity? Tovar really couldn’t decide which life suited you better. The wind gusted slightly. You stirred momentarily, shifted, and continued on sleeping. It was perhaps the best sleep you had had in seven years.

When you woke six hours later, Pero was staring into the dying fire. “Did you sleep?” you asked, your voice cracking from sleep.

“My job is to protect you _princesa_ ,” was Tovar’s reply. That wasn’t an answer, but you didn’t push him. He offered you a piece of dried meat. “ _Slowly, princesa_. I do not want you sick again.”

You chewed the meat slowly, savouring the flavour on your tongue.

“Do you know how to fight, _princesa_?” Tovar asked you as you swallowed the last of the meagre breakfast.

You simply shook your head. “Outside of the playfighting I did in the orphanage and with the servant’s children, no.”

Tovar was not surprised. “You must learn, if you are to protect yourself once you are no longer in my protection. Come. We will practice.”

* * *

William Garin was the last person Morwenna wished to see in the throne room when Joseph sent for her.

“Master Garin!” She forced another saccharine smile on her lips. “What brings you here?”

William returned her smile with one of his own. “Our preliminary search for the king’s ward has been less than fruitful.”

Morwenna frowned sadly. She clicked her tongue. “How tragic. I am assuming you are here to tell me that the crown goes to me?”

The lawyer frowned. “Not until a body is found or the king’s nephew is found.”

“Yes, of course,” Morwenna’s voice slipped, becoming terse. “So then, what brings you here?” she asked briskly.

William drew himself to his full height. “I heard on my way in here that you have formed a search party for her. I am here to tell you that I am forming my own hunting band.”

Morwenna nodded. “A wise choice. Well, do not get in the way of Captain Ballard’s hunting party, and he promises to do the same.” Her tone held no invitation for further discussion.

She would have to do something about that pesky lawyer.

As William departed from the castle, he lingered in the courtyard. He did not trust the king’s widow. She seemed to have claws. He had been around enough untrustworthy people in his life to know when someone was putting on a farce.

He could not fully place his distrust, but the way she reacted - both when he had read the will, and when he had delivered his news today - told him that Morwenna was scheming something. And he would get to the bottom of it.

As William began to walk to the stables to collect his horse, something one of the sentries said gave him pause. “I heard the queen tried to hire Pero Tovar to kill her. Shoulda done it a long time ago herself, you ask me.”

William paused. _That_ Pero Tovar?

Had he stayed around long enough, William would have been able to see what happened next.

A chestnut horse slowed to a stop outside of the stables. “Take care of her,” the rider said, handing the reins to the stable boy.

Joseph greeted the rider at the courtyard. “How may I help you, sir?” he asked.

“It is how _I_ can help _you_. I have heard rumblings of a search party and I wish to add my skills to the hunt,” the rider said, taking in the palace grounds. It had changed since he had last been there.

“That would be greatly appreciated. What is your name, soldier?” asked Joseph, calling over Ballard.

“George.”

* * *

“Again.”

You wiped sweat from your brow, re-establishing the fighting stance Tovar had taught you. You were practicing without swords until you got the hang of it, using dull twigs instead.

Going through the motions, you could probably do them in your sleep. You had been practicing for hours, now. “That is better,” Tovar praised. “But it still needs work.”

Pero Tovar was a hard man, you had quickly realized. He had a pain to him that he did not acknowledge, but you could see plain as day. Knowing better than to pry, you did not ask. It was not like asking a name. One could not ask what caused them the heartache that they so clearly carried around with them.

You also knew not to get on his bad side. Though he had only spoken briefly of his time as a sell-sword and his time in the East, you could tell right away that he was a dangerous man when crossed. The scar that bisected his eye only added to the danger this man exuded. Not for the first time you wondered what your fate would be had he decided not to show you mercy.

While there was a sadness, a heartache, to him - as well as a dangerous, sharp edge - Pero Tovar also had a quiet kindness to him as well. A sense of decency and integrity. It was understated, invisible almost. But it was there if you knew where to look.

Another mercy: “That is enough for right now. We must keep going.”

As you gathered your belongings, a chestnut horse wandered over to you. Just then, you heard faint voices. Pero caught your look.

“We must go.” Thinking the same thought you were, Pero walked over to the horse. It clearly belonged to someone. But he didn’t want to wait around long enough to meet the rider. “This will make our journey that much easier.”

* * *

You shivered that night. The temperature had dropped significantly. While you were still in the forest, you were far from where you had been, close to the edge of a village you had visited often.

The small campfire did little to warm you. Pero looked at you for a moment, making a decision.

A minute later, he crawled under the blanket you were shivering beneath. “W-what are you doi -?”

Pero hushed you. “Rest, _princesa_. It will do neither of us any good if you die of exposure.”

As you fell asleep, the only sounds coming from the fire, and Pero’s soft breathing, you realized that it had been a very long since you had felt this warm. Or so safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations:  
> Si = yes  
> Princesa = princess  
> Chica = girl  
> Hermosa = beautiful


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to pick up between Pero and reader! This chapter does not feature the queen or William, but it’s my favourite chapter so far. I am loving all the feedback and comments on this fic, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Touch-starved reader and Pero, inferences of PTSD, a nightmare, mutual yearning, perhaps a kiss or two?
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

You woke the next morning warm. Ensconsed. Memories of the night before flooded your mind. It had been cold. You could not get warm, so Pero had laid next to you to share body heat. Sleep had come easily for once, in his arms. Trying not to think too much about your new travelling companion, you lay still, your eyes still shut.

The man in question was stirring as well. “Wake up, _princesa._ ” His voice was a low grumble in your ear. “We must eat and continue riding if we are to make it to Prince Henry’s manor before the next full moon.”

You hoped that the king’s brother Henry still lived, that his son George was safe. You had never understood why the prince and his son had decided to live so far away from the village where you grew up, hundreds of leagues away. But now, you were glad for the distance. The further away Henry and George were, the less likely Morwenna was going to cause them harm.

Henry had not approved of the marriage between Morwenna and King John you recalled. It had caused a fight between brothers. How you wished that the king had listened to his younger brother instead of casting his protestations off as nothing more than jealousy. Henry’s own wife, Rebecca, had died in the childbed birthing George.

Since that fateful fight, Henry and George had stayed in their manor, thousands of miles away from you.

It was better that way.

You stretched as best you could, still in Tovar’s clutch. It was a small comfort to most, but to you, Pero’s innocent, kind touch was a balm to your soul. It had been so long since another person had held you, touched you with such innocence and kindness, it made you want to cry.

He seemed to understand, the loneliness in him seeping through when he thought you were not paying attention.

You mourned the loss of his touch, of his hold, as he released you. Though you suspected that it would become an unspoken, regular thing.

If Tovar’s calculations and estimations were correct, the journey to Prince Henry and George’s manor would take just over three weeks, perhaps a month. You could not remember the journey as a child taking that long. However, you had been travelling by carriage, rather than by foot. The horse the two of you had found yesterday was an added bonus, although she would not be able to accelerate the journey for you all that much.

“Did you sleep well, _princesa_?”

Wordlessly, you nodded, not looking in his eyes as you picked yourself up off the ground. “Thank you for - Well, for - For keeping me warm last night,” you said awkwardly.

Mercifully, Tovar didn’t fuss. “It is no trouble, _hermosa_.”

You liked that about him. He never gave a fuss about things.

There were many things you liked about him, the more you thought about it.

* * *

It became routine, your days with Tovar. You would wake with the sun, sometimes ensconced in Pero’s hold, depending on the chilliness of the nights. More and more often, the night’s temperature would drop below freezing, winter beginning to grip her claws into autumn. He said nothing of it, and neither did you. It just was. You would walk for half the day, the horse carrying anything that neither you nor Pero could carry. After a break to eat, you would continue onward. Sometimes, if your feet made you weary, or if it was near the end of the day, he would insist on riding the horse to ease your mutual weariness.

The dark forest the two of you had met in was long behind you. You didn’t know exactly where you were now, but no one appeared to recognize you in the village.

_Why would anyone recognize you? It had been almost a decade since people last set eyes on you._

Still, even though you were past immediate danger that you knew of, Pero had decided to stick to forests and meadows to cross through, rather than the towns and villages.

Tovar did not speak much, not that you minded, but when he did speak, he spoke of his time in the East. His adventures there with his brother-in-arms, William. On rare occasions, he would speak of his childhood in Spain.

“How does a Spanish mercenary who spent time in the far reaches of the world end up here of all places?” you asked as he spoke of slaying dragons and fighting monsters. “You should be having more adventures.”

Pero raised his scarred eyebrow at you with a grunt. You realized early on that his grunts were not often of displeasure or contempt. It was just his way. At least, it was with you. “That is no longer my life, _princesa_. And besides, I am on an adventure right now.”

Your cheeks flushed warm at his words and his little smirk as he watched your flustered realization.

Pero wanted to tell you the truth. That there had been nothing for him in the East once he had been paid for his work and that he had a woman waiting for him. Only to find that she had not been waiting after all. So he told you.

“Oh, Pero! I am sorry. I should not have asked,” you said, placing a hand on his upper arm in empathy.

That was the thing about you, Pero thought. You never said or did anything you did not mean, always with kindness and grace. “It is no worry, _cielo_. It is … no longer my life.”

You did not like the sound of that. It sounded sad. Lonely.

In turn, you spoke of your childhood. How the king had adopted you. Your life in the palace. Pero realized that the two of you had a completely different life. He had known it before, but hearing you speak of your experiences as a youth until the false queen stepped into your life confirmed it. You would do well as a queen, he thought, having no idea that it was the last thing you thought yourself capable of. He had no idea that you wanted nothing less than to sit on the throne.

You did not mention your time after Morwenna had married the king except in passing once or twice. Pero did not miss the way your face shifted when you spoke of your years in the tower. It was an expression he saw often in the mirror.

* * *

The days were getting colder and colder the longer you traveled cross-country. Soon, it would be too cold to stay out in the nighttime. Though Pero could probably have done it without a problem, he knew you could not. He could not put you through that after all that you had been through.

As you began to slow down to find a covered area to set up camp one night in late November, Pero stopped you. “No, _princesa_.”

You frowned at him in confusion. “It’s dark out, and we are both tired,” you said.

“It is too cold for us to be out here _, princesa_. We are finding a tavern or an inn. We need a proper rest all the same.”

Hesitantly, you agreed, but only after Tovar promised that he would make sure no one recognized you.

You were in a village you had never heard of before. It was so far from the palace and the town that you had grown up in.

It would be nice to sleep in a proper bed after so long. You waited by the horse in the small wood where Pero had left you, promising that he would return shortly with information. He left you with his small blade, something that he had taught you how to use. Your fighting skills were not matched with his, they never would be. But you did have proficiency with a blade to the point where he was impressed.

He returned some twenty minutes later.

“Have you found an inn?” you asked.

Pero shook his head. Before you could feel the pang of disappointment, he spoke. “I found a cottage. It is abandoned. The neighbour said the man who used to live there was called away some time ago to care for his six brothers and it has been standing empty for years.”

It sounded too good to be true, but you had no reason to question it. Except … “What about food?” you asked.

Pero held up a bag of provisions that he had not been carrying before. “I stopped at the market on my way back to you. We will be well-fed this night, _cielo_.”

Finding no other counter-arguments, you smiled at the mercenary-turned-huntsman-turned-friend. He touched the small of your back as he guided you in the direction of the cottage. Your nerves were aflame. It was a very innocent gesture, one he had done before many times, but it felt different this time.

 _Pero_ was different, you realized. You didn’t know when the shift had occurred, but there was a fondness you had for him that you had not experienced in the previous days and weeks of knowing him.

And he would be leaving as soon as you were safe with the prince and his son. Or so he had said.

Tovar glanced at you. “Are you well? You seem flustered.”

Giving him what you knew to be an unconvincing smile, you nodded. “Just tired.”

* * *

Tovar looked at you as you ate.

There was a loveliness to you that could not be overstated. Even after so many years of turmoil and anguish, the fire within you had refused to burn out. Your softness and kind nature not twisted and bent from years of pain.

He had not known you for longer than a fortnight, perhaps a bit longer, but he knew that he was changed because of you. You brought something out of him that he thought was dormant.

It had been some time since he had felt this way about someone. He thought that part of him was broken beyond repair.

And then you entered his life.

It was something that he had not anticipated happening. Tovar still had his regrets for the way you had met, but he could not change that. If he had refused the queen’s demand, surely someone else would have gone in his stead and may not have taken mercy on you.

Pero knew that he could not stay with you once you were safe with your family. It was not the life for him. He would only stand in your way. As much as he wanted to stay by your side and be in your life in any capacity you would have him in, he knew he could not.

Pero Tovar was a man who never backed out if it was something he wanted. And he wanted to stay with you, however you wanted him to. But he would not stand in your way. What use would a sell-sword-turned-huntsman have in a palace where he would be in over his head?

No. It was better this way. He knew that you felt the same, though you would not say it, would not admit it.

“Is something the matter?” you asked, suddenly noticing his ruminative expression.

Pero grunted as he always did. “Nothing to worry you, _princesa_.”

 _Princesa_. A reminder of who you were, of who you were to become.

* * *

It felt nice to be in a real bed again after so long. You practically sank into the mattress.

There was only one bed and you flat-out refused to allow Pero to sleep on the floor, not hearing his protestations. (“It is one thing to lie next to one another on the forest floor, _princesa_ , it is another thing entirely to share a bed.”)

You had not listened. “Pero Tovar, listen to me. I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor. You deserve some comfort, too.”

Not noticing the way his breath hitched at your words, you yanked the blankets down on the empty side of the large bed. You told yourself as Pero got in that this was simply pragmatic. It had nothing to do with needing him near.

You could tell him that later if he asked, but for right now, you enjoyed his presence as his soft breathing lulled you to sleep.

You dreamt. It was rare that you remembered your dreams, but tonight you did. And it was not a pleasant one. It was not so much a dream as it was a memory.

Suddenly - “ _Shhh, cielo_. You must wake up. Wake up, you are having a night terror.”

Your eyes snapped open. Pero was leaning over you. You opened your mouth to speak but a cracked sob escaped your lips instead.

Surprising both you and himself, Pero scooped you into his arms, stroking your back through your shift soothingly. “You are safe, _mi cielo_. It was a night terror. You are safe. You are with me. I promise, nothing can harm you while you are with me.” He repeated the words softly while you cried into his shoulder.

After what seemed an age, you cried yourself out. Pulling your face from his chest, you looked up at Pero.

“Are you all right?” asked Pero. You were silent.

He was so close. And he was so kind. It was a quiet, understated kindness, hidden by a gruff exterior. But you could see his kindness all the same.

You were unclear on how it came to pass, but one moment you were gazing up into his haunted brown eyes. And then your lips were on his.

It took a moment for Pero to realize what was happening, just as you were pulling away. Before you could apologize or explain, he kissed you properly, his large rough hands cupping your cheeks. As his lips slotted against yours, you let out a whimpering sigh. It was as though you had been woken up a second time by his kiss.

You had not kissed anyone since the summer solstice festival seven years ago. That had been a boy. Pero was a man who knew how to kiss, compensating for your clumsiness from lack of practice these seven years past.

Pero was soft, so soft. A gentleness that you had never seen before in him bleeding through his exterior. He cradled you so delicately. Not as though you were fragile, but rather that you were _cherished_.

It was as though you had done this a million times before; it felt _right_ kissing this man. You would tell yourself later that this was simply a thank you for all that he had done for you, but for right now you would enjoy it as much as he seemed to be.

Breaking the kiss, you rested your forehead against his. Licking your lips, you opened your mouth to speak, not knowing what to say. What did you say after that?

But it appeared that Pero was not finished. “ _Mi cielo_ ,” he whispered, as he followed your lips with his again once more.

After a time, Pero insisted that you try to get more sleep. “We have a long day before us tomorrow, _princesa_. We need to be well-rested.”

You were half-asleep when you replied, a fanciful thing that you said. “Can’t we stay here?”

Pero said nothing, he simply wrapped his arms around you, kissed your forehead and shut his eyes.

 _If only we could_.

* * *

No more dreams haunted you that night. You slept, tangled with Pero. Like his kiss, it felt natural, sharing a bed with him.

You had never slept better than you had with Pero next to you. At first you thought it was his proximity, the knowledge that someone was there with you. And that was true, to an extent. But as you got to know him over these past weeks, you knew that it was because it was _him._

Your eyes fluttered open. Pero was still sleeping, though it was a light sleep. He looked younger in sleep. Gentler. Less severe.

Reaching up, you stroked his beard that had tingled against your face the night before. You cupped his cheek, kissing his face just beneath his scar. He had mentioned in passing one day last week that the scar made people afraid of him.

Though you had been afraid of him at first, you could not fathom being afraid of him now.

“Good morning, _princesa_.” Pero’s voice was rough with sleep, and something else you could not easily identify. He took your other hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. Your eyes shut at the sensation. How you longed for this to be your daily life even after you had made it to safety. “We should not linger.” Though he spoke about starting your day’s journey, you also knew that Pero meant that you would not discuss your kiss. It was not something that needed to be discussed anyhow, you thought. It just was.

As you gathered the meagre collection of things that you had in your possession, Pero made note of this cottage, the name of this village.

Outside, you placed the saddle bags on the horse, patting her nose gently. “Is that everything?” you asked as Pero slung a bag across his shoulder.

“Not quite,” he said resolutely.

You frowned. You were sure that you had everything. “What is missing?”

“This.”

And he strode over to where you were standing, and kissed you again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations: 
> 
> princesa = princess  
> cielo = heaven  
> hermosa = beautiful


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That rating has gone up! I think I may love this chapter as much as the previous chapter. Things are starting to come together, in more than one way. All of the stuff with the queen and William is happening roughly at the same time as the events of chapter three. I really hope you like this chapter, and I’m sorry in advance.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Angst with feelings, implied/referenced sex, mutual pining, nudity, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

Morwenna stared out the rain-soaked window, watching with contempt as Joseph escorted yet another member of the search party back to the castle.

It was getting ridiculous. It had been over a week, and there was no word of you. Not a whisper or a hint of where you could be. As for the mercenary, well, she would have to deal with him, too, as soon as she found the two of you.

“Sister,” Joseph said from the arched doorway of the throne room. Morwenna turned, an icy glare etched on her face.

Joseph crossed the threshold. “What is it, Joseph?” Morwenna asked, impatience radiating off her in waves. “If you do not come with news of that wretch, I do not want to hear it.”

Morwenna’s brother tread carefully as he walked towards her. “It is not news of that wretch. Not specifically.” Morwenna whipped her head around. Holding up a pacifying hand, Joseph continued. “It has been almost a fortnight. And there is no word. The lawyer grows restless. He keeps asking _questions_ every time our paths cross. The Captain of the Guard is considering ending the search party. The princess - I mean, the fugitive - is not in that forest.”

Morwenna huffed. “Then what is it that you suggest we do?” she asked sarcastically.

Joseph hesitated a moment. “The Captain of the Guard has suggested that we finish the search. It is getting too cold for the men to stay out for longer than a few hours at most.”

The queen scoffed again. _Why do I even bother with making men do my bidding_? Morwenna asked herself.

The lawyer would not rest or leave her be until you were either located, dead or alive. There was no word of the king’s nephew. Gavin or whatever his name was. Morwenna knew beyond any question of doubt that you still lived. She should have dealt with you the same way she dealt with the king. At the same time.

Same with the king’s brother and nephew. 

Turning back to the window, Morwenna glanced down into the courtyard where Garin was discussing something with Captain Ballard and one of the members of the hunting party.

The sooner you were dealt with, the sooner she could deal with the lawyer that was breathing down her neck with his questions and his opinions. She knew what he thought of her - unfit as a queen.

Well, he would see just how fit she was as a queen from the dungeons if he wasn’t careful.

“Morwenna?” Joseph was still there. She tore her gaze from the window, turning back to face her brother.

Her voice was deadly quiet. “Leave me.”

* * *

Your kisses with Pero went unmentioned.

As much as you _ached_ to speak about it with him, you knew that it would only make things more difficult when he eventually left you with Henry and George, which was edging ever closer.

Instead of speaking about your kisses, whatever growing feelings lay between you, the two of you ignored them, hoping that with time, the feelings that were undeniable would settle or fade away with time.

It was too painful to think about. In a way, you supposed that it was better this way. Not mentioning them, not doing anything about them would prevent you from having to deal with any fallout when he eventually left.

As much as you did not want him to leave you.

As much as he did not want to leave, but to stay with you.

Snow fell for the first time three days after you had kissed him. It was no longer viable to sleep outside.

Most nights it was abandoned houses or cottages. Some nights it was in a tavern or an inn.

People automatically assumed that you and Pero were husband and wife and did not so much as bat an eye when Pero asked for accommodation at an inn.

The inns were few and far between, Pero not wanting to diminish the funds in his coin pouch too quickly.

One night, about a week after the night that you had kissed him, you lay next to him in a bed at a quiet tavern. Winter had started to settle in earnest in this sleepy little town. Not many visitors came through town once winter’s chill set in.

You were facing him. His face close to yours as you lay beside one another in contemplative silence.

Reaching out, you brushed the side of his face with your fingers softly. You just wanted to touch him for a moment. To feel his skin against yours again. Forget that it would soon not be a possibility.

“ _Princesa_ ,” Pero rasped, trying to sound warning. His voice held no such threat or warning. Instead he sounded almost _pained_. Like your touch branded him in some way.

Before Pero could say any more, you leaned in and kissed him. Your free hand curled into his hair to give yourself more leverage as your lips pressed against his.

Pero let out a sigh as he kissed you back, drinking you in like a man dying of thirst.

When you finally broke apart for air, you stroked his cheek again.

“This is foolish, _princesa_.” Pero’s words were a punch to your lungs. “If we continue to behave this way…”

You deflated. Pulling yourself away, you turned onto your other side. “I know,” you said quietly.

It was not fair, the way that his hands rested on your side gingerly. “I wish…” Pero never finished his sentence.

 _What did he wish_? you wondered as you lay there in the dark.

* * *

William was just making his way through the courtyard of the palace when a man in his late twenties came up to him.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the man, getting William’s attention.

“Can I help you?” William was in a bit of a rush. He needed to confirm that he was expanding the hunting party for you past the confines of this village to the queen.

With any luck there would be a crack in her facade and she would reveal something to him. He was not optimistic, but he had to hold on to some hope.

Morwenna was up to something, he just knew it.

“I was wondering, probably not at this point, it’s been weeks…” the man started. “If you have seen my horse.”

William frowned. “Your horse? I have seen you on a horse, a smoke-grey one.”

The man nodded. “Yes, but that is not my horse. Mine is a chestnut mare. The person who was watching the horses was not paying attention and she got spooked and ran away before the person could calm her down.”

This man tried to be patient. But it just seemed sloppy to him. It was not how he would run things.

William thought for a moment, racking his brain. He shook his head. “I cannot say that I have.”

The younger man nodded. “Thank you all the same, sir.”

William nodded, introducing himself properly as a representative of the king’s lawyer. “Who are you?” he asked. “I have not seen you around here before now.”

“I came for the search party. I know the person that they are looking for,” the man explained.

William nearly tripped over his own feet. “You know the king’s ward?” It could not be true.

“She is my cousin. I am the king’s nephew.”

“George?” The man nodded discreetly. You could have knocked William over with the lightest burst of wind. “I have been looking for you also!” he said in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw any attention. “Do you have any idea where she may be?”

George pondered for a moment before the answer struck him like lightning. “She must be on her way to the family cottage where my father and I live.” He recalled his father saying that you were welcome there any time you wished or needed.

William could not believe this turn of luck. An idea, either brilliant or foolish, came to him then. “I have a plan. I will explain on the way. Come with me. Meet your … odious aunt.”

The prince grimaced, recalling his first and last meeting with her seven years ago, falling into step next to William.

* * *

“Your majesty, I have excellent news,” William said by way of greeting as Joseph showed him and George in.

Morwenna’s look of delight seemed false. “You have found her?” she gasped dramatically.

William pursed his lips. “Not exactly. But … my associate and I have a lead. She is heading for the family cottage.”

The queen nodded soberly. “A wise choice on my daughter’s part,” she said matronly.

George could hardly contain his frown. He knew that she likely did not recognize him. But he remembered _her_. And he remembered how she had treated you. She never _once_ considered you as a daughter or anything more than a threat to what she truly wanted. George wondered if you knew that Henry had wanted you to come live with them instead of having to stay with the king and Morwenna.

“We are on our way now to find her so that she may hear the last will and testament of the king and she can decide if she wants the throne or if we should continue in our search for Prince George,” William said.

Morwenna’s face tightened slightly. “Is that wise, attorney, in this weather?”

William dismissed her concern. “Time is of the essence.”

“Too right,” the queen amended. “I wish you luck and a swift return.” Her parting smile was sickly sweet, her glance falling to George.

After the two men had left her, a nagging sense of familiarity began to chew at her.

 _She knew him from somewhere_. _But where_?

Morwenna could not help but think that the younger of the two men looked a bit like the late king. Which could not be, since the king had no children.

 _It could not be._ Could it?

With a pit of panic lurching in her stomach, Morwenna knew who it was.

 _Prince George_. Second heir to the throne after you.

This would not do. “Joseph,” she called. Her brother entered the throne room. “Send for Captain Ballard. I have to make a journey and need a guard.”

Her brother frowned. “What sort of -?”

Morwenna’s exasperated yell cut him off. “Just do it!” She calmed herself, taking in a breath.“Have him arrive in thirty minutes. I have to see to something first.”

Once Joseph assured her that he would send for him at once, Morwenna began formulating her plan.

The lawyer and the upstart prince would not be the only ones searching for you. And this time she would have her victory. Pulling a small vial from a box she had beneath the throne at all times, her smile was pure poison.

* * *

Things were different again after that night at the inn.

It was as though a shroud of tension had settled over top of you. You knew what you wanted. He knew what he wanted. It was cruel that it had to be this way.

You hardly looked at Pero, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to do. You wanted him. But you also knew he could not stay. He did not want to stay. You would not ask him to stay with you when you knew that he did not want to. He could not stay. Could he?

Pero was quiet. He was always quiet, usually in a surly way. But this was different. He was quiet in a contemplative way, wondering what to do. He could not part from you. He could not stay where he did not fit, either. And a life of royalty was no fit for a sell-sword.

He could not meet your eyes most of the time, too aware of the threat of tears that you were fighting off.

Days passed in almost total silence. You would lay in a bed or in a stable with him beside you, his arms wrapped around you for warmth and security.

It was an act of intimacy as well. In the dark, you could have what you wanted with Pero - him close to you.

You could not allow yourself to identify the feelings you had for him. It was more than simple infatuation and gratitude. His eyes told you that he had similar feelings.

It was a cold and blustery day. Over the wind, Pero called, “Let us finish today early, _princesa_.”

You nodded, and in short time Pero had found a barn. Not a single living soul was here. It would do.

The horse munched on some hay in the corner as you set your belongings that you needed on the ground for ease of access, hyper-aware of Pero’s gaze on you.

Something had shifted again today, like the tension between you was about to snap in two. Pero seemed to notice it, too.

Suddenly he was right in front of you, looking down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. You stood to be on a more even level with him, eye contact never breaking.

For the first time in days, you kissed him. And this kiss was different from the other kisses, filled with want and need for more.

Consequences be damned.

Based on Pero’s response as you pressed your body against his, he seemed to want and need more as well. 

“ _Princesa_. This is a dangerous game we are playing. If we do not stop now, I will not be able to contain myself.” 

You kissed him again. “I do not want to stop,” you said, your voice low. Your hands came up to rest on Pero’s chest as your lips worked in tandem with his. 

“You deserve so much better than this. You deserve the softest bed and the finest man to pleasure you,” Pero started, his deft fingers already unlacing your dress. He pulled it over your head, leaving you standing there in just your shift. “A man fit for a princess such as yourself.”

“I do not care for such things. I just want you,” you said, your hands moving to his trousers. Your fingers trembled in anticipation. Pero’s breath was warm on your neck where his lips ghosted and laved at the tender skin at your pulsepoint. “Let us have this before we have to part ways.” 

He pulled his shirt off with a grunt, flinging it across the stable with little care. His eye was not the only part of him that bore scars. You gazed at his toned chest with awe. “Do not say such things right now, _princesa_ ,” he said. “Let us simply be a man and a woman right now.”

You agreed with all your heart. A low grumble of wind outside barely registered as you took in his words.

Pero, free of his trousers, laid you down on the straw, his body caging yours as he kissed you again and again.

“Fear not. Though I may be a simple mercenary, I will treat you like you are a queen,” he whispered against your cheek before he took the liberty of removing your shift. His eyes were darkened with desire and something else as he drank you in. 

“You are so beautiful.” His voice was filled with awe. Had it been anyone else, you would have felt bashful being naked before them. But it was Pero, your Pero. Dear man that he was. Your eyes locked with his again as the two of you began in earnest, your legs hooking around his hips.

“Pero,” you whispered. “Make me yours.”

The fact that you would not be with him for much longer was irrelevant right now. That this would only make things more difficult. Nothing else mattered but this, you and Pero.

And you felt nothing but him.

* * *

Pero and you lay in silence, exhausted from it. You rested against him on the bed of straw, your mind racing, a pleasant, dull ache between your legs.

Reality was beginning to sink in again, and with it came the realization that had been in the back of your mind, ignored, for quite a while.

The words were heavy on your tongue, almost willing themselves to be spoken as Pero settled beside you, pulling you closer to him. He was warm and soft and comfortable and you never wanted to leave his side. You wanted to be with him for the rest of your days.

_If you said the words, they could never be unsaid._

Pero noticed the tears glazing your eyes as he looked down at you, memorizing your face in this afterglow. “ _Preciosa_ , do not cry,” he soothed, his voice hoarse with his own emotion. 

“I…” You paused. Tried again. “I…” The words were so simple, yet so endlessly complicated. They were stuck in your throat.

Pero hushed you. He kissed your forehead tenderly. “I know, _amor_. I know.” 

Of course he knew, for he had come to the same realization himself some time ago.

Pero said nothing more, nor did you speak again for the rest of the night, the unspoken words lay between you as he wrapped his arms around you. He buried his nose in your hair, murmuring quiet things in Spanish soothingly into your ear that you could not understand, as the wind howled and groaned outside.

You were not sure when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Pero was still sleeping. Your limbs were tangled together, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Trying not to allow the tears you felt in your throat to spring to your eyes, you whispered quietly. So quietly you knew he could not hear them except perhaps in his dreams. Just to say it. Even if this was the only time they were spoken.

“I love you.”

Pero woke just as you were slipping back to sleep. “Come, _preciosa_. We must wake.” He was completely unaware of what you had whispered to him, but that did not stop him from kissing you gently.

The two of you were just about to set off for the day, milling about just outside the stable. He gave you a lingering kiss, something on his mind that he wanted to tell you.

“I have to tell you something, _princesa_.” You looked at Pero expectantly as he took your hand in his. But before he could tell you, however, the two of you sensed a presence. Someone was here.

You heard your name, and then -

“ _Tovar_?”

“William,” Pero breathed, still clutching your hand in his.

You glanced at the two men. You did not recognize the blonde man Pero called William. But the man with William... “George?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations: 
> 
> princesa = princess  
> amor = love  
> preciosa = precious


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the storylines are converging in this chapter! I really liked writing this chapter and I hope you like reading it. I think there will be one more chapter and then the epilogue, so we are almost at the end!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Swearing, feeling overwhelmed, kissing, feelings, implied/referenced sex, murder attempt.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

George repeated your name as you clutched at Pero’s hand, your grip on it tightening as your mind registered that you were in fact seeing your cousin for the first time in almost eight years.

Pero squeezed your hand reassuringly before he spoke. “William,” he said. “What - How -” It had been years since the two men had last seen each other. “ _Amigo,_ I -”

William could not help but smile. He had never been able to catch Tovar off-guard. Not once. “It is good to see you too, old friend,” he said, meaning every word.

Pero had thought that he would never see his brother-in-arms again. Especially after he had departed from China, leaving William with the general, Lin-Mae. William had been disappointed, but not surprised. Tovar always seemed to go where the wind blew him, and the winds were blowing him back to the lands he knew.

What surprised William more than seeing Tovar was seeing him with _you_ , your hands locked together. The mercenary-turned-lawyer remembered Tovar speaking of a woman, _Maria_ , he thought. You were _not_ that woman.

William and George took in the scene before them: you were unsure, Tovar was stunned. The two of you holding hands like your lives depended on it. The two men shared a look.

“What is going on?” asked Pero. “Why are you here? Who is that?” He nodded towards George.

George introduced himself. “I am the king’s nephew, cousin to the princess.”

“And second in line to the throne,” added William.

Your eyes widened. “Who -” Your voice was hoarse. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “Who is first?”

William pondered a moment. “There is much to discuss. It is fortuitous we found each other.”

At your look of confusion, he continued with a chuckle. “I apologize. I have yet to formally introduce myself. I am William Garin. I work for the law firm that represents the estate of the late king. I have been searching for you for some time.”

You felt yourself become dizzy, grateful that Pero was there to steady you. “Me? What do you want with me?”

William and George exchanged a glance. “Why do we not read the will at my father’s manor?” suggested George. “It will do all of us good to be seated and rested. It is less than a half-day’s journey by horse.”

George had always been reasonable in his suggestions. Level-headed. It did not surprise you that he was eligible for the throne.

Just then, he spoke again. “My horse!” He had noticed the chestnut mare laden with your supplies. “I am glad she was in such … good company,” he said, stroking the horse’s snout gently, looking directly at you. He still had not decided on his thoughts on Pero, evidently.

“She served us well,” said Pero, removing his hand from your grip to remove the supplies that were still on the horse’s back. “And insist upon you riding her for the duration of the journey. The _princesa_ and I will take the grey one.”

As he helped you up onto the dark grey horse, settling in behind you, you were confused. Pero’s duty to you was complete. Why was he continuing on with you?

William did not miss the way that Tovar’s arm curled gently around your chest, a look of longing clear on Tovar’s face as he gathered the reins in his hand.

Nor did he miss the look of longing and sadness etched into your own features as you held the hand that was at your chest.

You knew this was coming, you had known it since he had first made his promise to you of protection. But it did not make it any less difficult. Maybe if you loved him less than you did, it would not be as hard.

* * *

The manor house was just as opulent as you remembered it. Though it was less lavish than the palace had been, it still clearly belonged to royalty. You learned with some sadness on the ride that the king’s brother Henry had died late last winter and the running of the house had fallen to George.

A servant stood at the ready at the door. “Good day milord,” he said as the four of you dismounted from your horses. “A letter from the king’s wife has arrived this morning.”

The four of you collectively frowned, a chill running down your spine as George opened the letter. His brows knitted together as he read. “Morewenna is on her way here with Sir Ballard to hear the reading of the will and be reunited with you,” he said in your direction.

You nearly collapsed, Pero’s sturdy hold steadying you.

“What is the meaning of this?” hissed Pero as he held you upright with one arm.

William and George were at a loss for words. “This note is dated two days after we departed,” George noted. “So she will be here in two days from now.”

You let out a little squeak.

Pero turned to look at you, making you look into his eyes as he spoke. “ _Mi cielo_ ,” he whispered. “Listen to me. Remember my promise? That no harm would come to you?” You nodded. “I am repeating that promise to you now. So long as you are with me, nothing will happen to you.” Pero stroked your cheeks with his rough hands, pressing his lips to your forehead to seal his promise.

Ignoring the looks of both William and George, Pero continued. “Is there somewhere for her to rest? Perhaps a bath as well? She is weary.”

Clearing his throat, George stood to action. “Yes. That is a good idea.” He ushered you into the manor. “Send for Penelope to prepare a bath for the princess and a room for her as well.” He turned to you. “Penelope will take care of you.”

Finding your voice for the first time all day, you protested. “No. I do not need any help,” you said. “She can prepare the water and set up my bed room, but I do not need anyone waiting on me hand and foot.”

George was taken aback. You had never been one to refuse help. “It is no trouble for her to -”

You snapped. “I can fucking do it myself!” Then, more softly, “Let me do it myself, _please_.”

There were too many people in this place. It felt as though you could not breathe. You wanted everyone save for one person to leave you. You looked up at Pero, the only one who had a look of understanding in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

George opened his mouth to insist, but Pero silenced him with a dark look. Changing his tactic, he instead said, “Very well. Penelope will warm the water and you can … do what you need.”

He pointed you in the direction of the bathing area. On still unsteady legs, you wandered down the long hallway in the direction that he showed you, leaving a tense and heavy silence behind you.

You were just starting to relax in the hot water of the bath when there was a brisk, heavy knock on the door.

“It is me, _princesa_.”

Pero. Here to tell you that he was leaving, most likely. Shutting your eyes, you said, “Come in.”

The door squeaked as Pero opened it slowly. He was at your side in an instant, striding over in two large steps. He knelt beside the tub, dipping his hand in the hot water. “Are you all right, _amor_?” he asked you quietly.

You felt like you could be truthful with Pero, always. Slowly, you shook your head. “I do not know, Pero. I feel so … so…” You trailed off, not knowing what the right word was.

“Overwhelmed?” Pero supplied. You nodded with a sigh.

Pero swirled the warm water with his hand. You caught his hand with yours, holding it against your heart. You would miss this, these quiet moments with him.

“Pero?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Pero did not need to be asked twice. His lips slotted against yours gently, reveling in the way you sighed and moaned against his lips. You sat up in the tub, needing him closer. Not caring a whit that as you sat up and practically launched yourself at him, the bathwater sloshed out of the tub. Your fingers knotted in the back of his hair as one of his hands cupped one of your breasts, the other finding purchase at the back of your neck.

You were like that for a time, just lazily kissing each other. Once you broke apart for breath, Pero helped ease you back into the tub, helping you wash.

It was like a magic spell, when it was just the two of you, now. A refuge from the storm that was the decisions you had to make.

Finally, you spoke, effectively breaking the spell. “What are you going to do?”

Pero grabbed the fluffy towel, holding it out for you to take as you stood. Though you dreaded to leave the tub, you felt much cleaner and refreshed, you could not deny. You dreaded what his answer would be, as much as you needed to know.

“What am I going to do about what?” he asked.

You dried yourself off, pulled the clean shift Penelope had left. “About…” You gestured vaguely. “Well, about everything. You said you would stay with me until we arrived here.”

Pero had to admit, you had a point. Still, he frowned. “I promised you, _princesa_. No harm would come to you.”

You decided not to push it, not now. Things would play out the way they would. Stepping up on your toes, you kissed him once again. The words that you had spoken in the early hours of the morning while he slept seemed another lifetime ago.

Already knowing the answer, you had no need to hear it from his lips. Still, something he had said right before you were interrupted by William and George was stuck in your mind.

_I have to tell you something, princesa._

“What did you want to tell me?” you asked quietly as Pero helped you into your dress. He laced it loosely at the back. “Before William and George arrived,” you clarified.

 _That I love you, and wish to stay with you for evermore_ , Pero thought.

“Do not worry yourself with it, _princesa_. It is nothing.” He did not want to add to your burden.

He wondered then, if you saw through his words. Though you said nothing, he could see the question in your eyes.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. It was the first time in over a month that you sat away from Pero, him being seated across the table from you.

You pushed your meal around your plate, only eating a few bites here and there. The food that the cook had prepared, once your favourite, was now too rich for your palate.

“Are you unwell, cousin?” asked George from one head of the table. William was at the other end of the table.

You smiled weakly. “Just weary from the journey is all.”

George hummed sympathetically. “You should rest well tonight. I assume with Morwenna arriving in a few days’ time, you will be overexerted.”

At the slightly pained look on your face, Pero wanted to hold your hand, reassure you.

“Could you excuse me? I am feeling quite weary. I think I will lie down.”

Not waiting for a response that you did not care to hear, you walked away from the table, down the hall, to your bedroom.

As you lay there in your dress, not bothering to take it off, you let your mind wander. You could not remember the last time you had felt so stifled. Pero was the only one who did not watch you like a hawk, allowing you to have some reprieve, an ability to breathe.

Pero. You smiled softly for a moment at the thought of him. You knew you could not ask him to stay. Especially if what you suspected to be in the king’s will to be true. He would resent you for making him live a life that he did not want.

 _But did he really not want it_? It was a thought you could not help but wonder, especially in the last few days.

If, as you suspected, you were named as the king’s heir, you did not know if you would be able to do it. Every part of you rejected it. You thought back to the cottage that you and Pero had stayed at, the night that you had kissed him for the first time.

How simple things had been back then. It had only been less than a fortnight ago. That was the kind of life you wanted to lead. Not necessarily on the run. But settled. Calm. Peaceful. With Pero. You could not even begin to _imagine_ that if you were named queen.

Faintly, you could hear the dinner concluding. The others saying goodnight. You had no idea what time it was. It got dark so early this time of year. You dreaded to think about spending the night without Pero beside you. You would be able to do it, you knew it, but you suspected it would not be as deep a sleep as you had gotten used to.

Minutes or hours later, you were unsure, there was a low knock on the door. Before you could get up from the bed to see who it was, the door opened.

“ _Mi cielo_?”

Pero.

“Pero?” you said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

You did not know if you meant what he was doing there in your room, or still at the manor.

“I had to wait until the _idiotas_ had gone to bed. I was not about to leave you by yourself, _princesa_.”

Unexpected tears welled in your eyes as he sat on the bed across from you. Pero reached out and cupped your cheek in a large hand, swiping away an errant tear with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch. “I am sorry,” you said.

_For behaving this way. For being royalty. For making you a part of this._

Pero hushed you. “There is nothing to apologize for, _preciosa_.” He kissed your brow, your shuddering breath fanning across his face.

The two of you gazed at each other for a moment before his lips descended on yours. You sighed into the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

Pero was simultaneously too close to you and not close enough. You shifted yourself so that you were practically in his lap as his lips began to roam your skin. “Pero,” you half-whispered, half-moaned, as he grazed at your neck. “Pero. Please. Please. Make love to me.”

Pero’s eyes darkened for a split second before softening. “ _Mi amor_ ,” he whispered, his hands coming around you to unlace your dress. “Let me take care of you properly this night. The way you are meant to be taken care of.”

His touch was feather-light, his movements almost reverential as the two of you explored each other again and again.

 _I love you, I love you, I love you_ , both of you wanted to say, the words conveyed through your movements, your touches.

* * *

“Pero?” you said in the dark, lounging on Pero’s broad chest.

“Yes, _cielo_?” He sounded tired.

“I am hungry.”

As if to illustrate your words, your stomach let out a low grumble.

Pero chuckled. “I worked up your appetite, eh, _amor_?”

You kissed him. “Perhaps. I was hungry before you arrived.”

Kissing you again, Pero lifted you off his chest. “Well, _princesa_ , I am but your humble servant. I shall return with a feast fit for a queen.”

You smiled up at him. “Thank you. Nothing too rich, please,” you added as Pero put his shirt on.

He bent to kiss you once more. “Whatever _princesa_ asks, _princesa_ shall get,” he teased.

Just as Pero was rounding the corner to return to your room, a plate filled with simple food - bread, cheese, some meat - William’s voice startled him. “Where are you going with that?”

Pero placed a hand over his swiftly beating heart. He swore in Spanish. “You scared me, _cabrón._ Do not sneak up on a man in the middle of the night.”

William held up his hands in surrender. “Are you going to her room?” he asked simply.

At a loss for words, Pero stuttered an answer. William waved his feeble attempts at an answer that was not incriminating away. “Tovar. I have suspected it for most of the day.”

Pero breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you going to… put a stop to it?” he asked, hating the way his voice sounded so feeble.

William’s question surprised him. “Do you love her?” he asked simply.

Tovar paused for a moment. “ _Si_. More than… more than I have ever loved anyone.”

His friend sighed. “I do not know what she will decide. I have my suspicions. But I also heard that you plan on leaving?”

Pero hesitated again. “That was… the original plan, yes. I promised to protect her until she was safe.”

“But now?” William prodded.

“I go where she goes,” Pero said simply. “I would stay as long as she would have me.”

He realized then, that it had always been that way.

William let out a _huh_ in contemplation, before adding, “Even if she is queen?”

Pero simply nodded, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

“Does she know this?”

Still not meeting William’s eyes, Pero shook his head.

William clicked his tongue in almost disappointment. He could not be too disappointed, knowing that Pero Tovar was not a man who confessed his inner feelings often. He knew that his gruff exterior was a ruse to protect himself. He could not blame his friend too much. “You should tell her,” he said simply. “I know she loves you. I can promise you she does, based on the way she looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Pero met William’s eye then. “She told me herself last night.”

William’s eyes widened. “And you did not tell her you feel the same?” he demanded.

 _Idiots, the two of you_ , he thought with a modicum of affection.

“She thought me sleeping.” It was a weak excuse. “And she is… afraid,” Pero added.

William nodded. “I gathered. She has much on her shoulders. Between you and me, I worry what her stepmother will do when she arrives.”

Another thing Pero could agree with. “I will protect her,” he said simply.

William smiled softly. “You should tell her,” he said as he began to walk back down the hall to his own sleeping quarters, leaving Pero alone with his thoughts and a tray of food for the two of you to share.

You were dozing when he arrived back in your room a few moments later. “ _Cielo_ ,” Pero whispered. Your eyes fluttered open. You smiled at him when you saw what was on the platter.

“Thank you,” you said as he set the tray down on your lap, sitting down in the bed with you. He kissed you tenderly by way of greeting.

 _I love you_ , he thought. _I love you with all I have_.

The two of you grazed on the tray until your hunger was sated. After Pero set the tray at the door, he lay down next to you.

You were sleepy, your eyes drooping. He smoothed your hair out of your face gently as he took you in.

“Sleepy thing,” he chuckled. You blinked heavily at him.

“Stay with me,” you whispered to him.

“Always,” Pero responded.

He was unsure if you were still awake or asleep. But he said the words to you all the same. “I love you, _princesa_.” He hugged you to him.

All he was met with was silence save for your breathing, thinking you asleep, completely unaware that you had heard him.

* * *

Snow shrouded the grounds of the manor as Morwenna’s carriage rolled up.

Ballard was glad to be free from the carriage and the queen’s company. She was plotting something, something he wanted no part of. Though what it was, he was unsure.

Morwenna took in the manor. She wondered if she would keep it on when she was rightfully and truly queen.

“Good day,” said the doorman as he took Morwenna’s hand in his, helping escort her out of the carriage.

Morwenna greeted him as cordially as possible, continuing to take in the manor. No, it simply would not do. Too drab.

You were gazing out the window, watching your stepmother’s arrival, wearing nothing but a blanket and Pero’s marks. Pero stood behind you, his lips attached to the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

He noticed you stiffen suddenly, pulling you around to face him.

“She is here,” you whispered as Pero held you close.

Pero rested his chin on the crown of your head as you buried your face on his bare chest. “Fear not, _mi amor_. I will keep you safe.”

After last night, you felt more at ease with asking him to stay. He did not know that you had heard what he said as you drifted into sleep. You were going to ask him to stay with you, properly this time.

But it could not happen at this moment.

No part of you or Pero wanted to go down and greet your stepmother, wanting to stay in bed. You knew that she would find you, though. So, you got dressed, dressing simply. Pero’s hand did not leave yours as you walked down to the entrance hall.

 _She has no power over you_ , you reminded yourself as Morwenna greeted William and George with disinterest before her attention turned to you and Pero.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said venomously to Pero, her eyes dropping to your entwined hands. “And you -” she started before she noticed everyone watching her. “-have had me _so_ worried! Sneaking off like that.” You had a death grip on Pero’s hand, refusing to cower in fear at the woman who once - and still - frightened you.

Pero frowned at her, his scowl matching her look of venomous contempt. Ballard frowned as well, shifting uncomfortably. He wanted to tell William what he had found in the queen’s belongings earlier that day, but he could not get a moment alone with the lawyer, for as soon as the greetings were done, William was ushering everyone into the drawing room.

You noticed Morwenna looking at you with a twisted grin on her face. _She was planning something. What was it_?

“I want to keep this fairly to the point. No idle chatter, just down to the last will and testament,” William said, grabbing the document from his bag that was sitting next to a decanter of wine.

Morwenna sat on the other side of the table that William’s bag and the wine was on. Ample opportunity to hatch her plan.

William cleared his throat and read, not for the first time, the last will and testament of the king. “’The last will and testament of John VII Rex, dated this January nineteenth. I, being in sound mind and under no legal duress, declare that everything in my possession shall go to my ward.’” William glanced to you as he said your full name. That did not surprise you. William continued. “’The role of monarch shall pass to her. Should she refuse it under any circumstance except for that of duress, it shall go to my nephew, George.’”

Your chest tightened. You should not have been surprised. It was what you suspected.

Before you could open your mouth to renounce the title, to refuse it, Morwenna spoke. “Well, this deserves a toast!” She had already poured the wine. “To our new queen!” She handed you a glass of the wine before commanding Ballard to hand out the rest of the wine goblets.

You shook your head. “No,” you whispered.

“It would be rude not to accept,” Morwenna countered, taking a sip of her own wine. She seemed fine. Almost _too_ fine with all of this. She had wanted nothing but the throne.

Not wanting her to see how you still feared her, you had no choice but to accept. She smiled widely as the wine spilled over your lips. It was in that moment that Ballard, who had stepped out for just a moment, returned to the drawing room.

You had just swallowed the wine when he cried out, “Princess, no!”

The wine glass fell from your hands in shock, Ballard’s voice startling you.

“ _You_ ,” hissed Morwenna to Ballard. “I should have known you would try to turn against me.”

Everything sounded faint, far-away. “ _Cielo_?” You could barely hear Pero’s voice in your ear. The entire room was spinning.

The last thing you heard was, “I should have dealt with her the same way I dealt with the king all those years ago.”

And then everything turned to black as you collapsed to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations:
> 
> Amigo = friend  
> Mi cielo = my heaven  
> Princesa = princess  
> Preciosa = precious  
> Idiotas = idiots  
> Cabrón = asshole  
> Si = yes  
> Amor/mi amor = love/my love


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! This chapter took longer to write than it would have otherwise due to some preliminary research I had to do on poison and law. It’s different than other chapters have been, but it features one of my favourite Pero Tovar scenes in the entire series. This is the final chapter before the epilogue.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Briefly implied/referenced sex, swearing, poison, vomit mention, poorly researched medieval law and poison remedies.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemanda

Morwenna hardly had time to revel in her assumed victory before Pero’s arm was wrapped around her neck, his blade at her throat. “You bitch,” he growled, his voice as venomous as the poison she had put into your chalice of wine. “Tell my why I should not cut you down where you stand right now?”

Morwenna just laughed coldly.

William interjected. “She needs to stand trial. She just admitted to treason after attempting murder and another act of treason.”

That did not stop Pero, his blade still at the false queen’s neck. “She tried to kill her. I-I promised I would keep her safe.”

_And he had failed to keep that promise._

His friend softened. “I know you promised, Tovar. But you cannot be judge, jury, and executioner right now. The princess needs you.” William continued in a lower voice, stating that you needed him to be strong.

Despite the sharp blade at her neck, Pero’s arm in a chokehold around her, Morwenna laughed, not even noticing that Ballard had crouched next to you to see if you were still alive. “She does not _need_ you! Or anyone! Not when she is dead!”

Her smile and glee was short-lived, however. “She is not dead!” Ballard proclaimed, his fingers at your pulsepoint. Your heart beat slower than normal, but it was still steady, still strong.

As if to confirm Ballard’s words, you let out a small whine that cut through Pero like a knife.

Pero was at your side in an instant, pushing Morwenna aside with little care, not even bothering to confirm that George had her contained.

“ _Mi cielo_?” he said as you moaned pitifully. “ _Mi cielo,_ can you hear me?”

Nothing else mattered but you, making sure that you were all right. Pero hardly noticed that William and George were discussing what to do next. Should they lock Morwenna away? Call for a constable?

“How?” Morwenna groaned. “How does that wretch still live when I used the same - He was dead in a heartbeat!” She did not understand.

The footman came to the door then. “Milord?” George did not care that it was no longer the correct title for him.

“Yes? What is it, Matthew?” George asked wearily.

Matthew gasped as he took in the scene in front of him, you lying on the floor surrounded by blood-red wine, the shards of shattered glass. “I-I heard the commotion and wanted to see that everything was all right.”

Clearly everything was not all right.

Sounding every bit like a king, George stood to his full height. “Matthew, take this woman to the dungeon at once. Send for a sheriff as soon as you are able to. She has just admitted to high treason and has attempted to kill the princess.”

Matthew nodded wordlessly as William roughly grabbed the traitorous, false queen by the sleeve, shoving her into the footman’s grip. “Should I send for a medic as well?”

Just before George was about to answer in the affirmative, Ballard cut him off. “No need to, sir. I know what to do.”

Three pairs of skeptical eyes fell on Ballard. “No!” barked Pero. “How should we trust him? He was clearly in alliance with that _bruja._ Until the tide turned against her favour, he was working with her.”

William shook his head in agreement with Pero. “Tovar’s right. Why would he suddenly be on our side after being her right hand man for months?”

His friend’s agreement surprised Pero. Usually he was the voice of reason, of fairness. But now, he was saying that Ballard should not be given a chance.

“Pero,” you croaked. You opened your eyes blearily, glassy with tears. “Pero…”

Pero took your hand in his, kissed it gently. “I am right here, _mi amor_. I am right here.”

George spoke up. “I think we should at least give Ballard a chance. It may be some time until a medic can arrive.” He levelled both William and Pero with an imperial gaze, almost daring them to disagree with him.

William sighed. “Very well.” Pero scowled, but nodded in agreement.

* * *

“Let us get her more comfortable.” Ballard had gathered a few items from the kitchens and the gardens, combining them into a mortar and pestle. “Her dress is too tightly laced.”

Pero wasted no time, slitting the laces open with his knife, allowing you to breathe a bit easier.

“Pero, it hurts, make it stop,” you said tearfully, pain lacing your voice.

He kissed your brow gently. “Ballard is going to help you, I promise, _amor_.”

Nodding absently, you slipped back into a fitful, light sleep.

Pero turned to Ballard. “Do not let that promise be a false one, _víbora_ ,” Pero threatened.

Ballard had the decency to look frightened. “W-we should move her to somewhere comfortable. Her bed, perhaps?”

Standing, Pero hoisted you into his arms with ease, cradling you against his chest. It was almost in a bridal style, the way he was carrying you. The thought made his heart ache; he had always assumed the first time he carried you like this would be on your wedding night.

 _Wedding night_.

You were essentially the queen, now, should you choose it. But he was going to stay with you until you sent him away, even if you decided to take on the title. He was going to marry you if he could. If you survived this…

“Tovar? Help me.”

Pero had hardly noticed that he had carried you to your bedroom, the one that had been warm and carefree mere hours ago when the two of you had explored each other again and again, caring for nothing but the company of each other. Had that only been this morning? Last night? By God, it seemed so long ago, now.

“What do you need me to do?” Pero asked. He still did not trust Ballard, but he had to let the man do what he could.

Ballard handed him a glass of the mixture he had been working on combined with some water. “She needs to get the poison out of her system. This will help with that.”

Pero eyed the man warily. “Forgive me for not trusting you, but the last thing she drank resulted in this.”

Ballard sighed. “I know. It was a mistake on my part to get caught up with that. My only wish is that my part in all this can be rectified in helping her.” He sounded so remorseful and guilty, that Pero had no choice but to believe him.

“ _Princesa_ ,” he whispered against your ear. Your eyes, thick and slow as honey, fluttered open. “I need you to drink this. It will help.” Pressing his lips to your temple for a moment, he lifted the cup to your lips. Helped you drink it.

You sputtered and coughed as the mixture landed on your tongue, going down your throat. “It burns,” you gasped.

“It is supposed to, princess,” said Ballard. “And you will be sick in a moment or two, but that is what is supposed to happen.” There was no other way to get the weakened poison from your system other than forcing it back up.

Sure enough. You cringed against the bitter taste left in your mouth, almost crying when Ballard said you needed to drink the entire concoction.

“Why does she live still?” Pero asked as you drank down another large sip. “She said that the same poison killed her father in a matter of seconds.”

Ballard explained as he held out the bowl for you to be sick in, Pero stroking your back. “Poison loses its efficacy after a time. It is my belief that the que - the _traitor_ ,” he corrected himself, “has not used that poison on anyone since the late king eight years ago.”

Pero was still confused. “But she still is suffering.”

“It will probably not kill her, but it will still weaken her. We need to do this so that we can stop the remaining effectiveness to kill her, so that she can live to be the queen.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to,” you sobbed.

What you didn’t want was unclear to both Ballard and Pero. Were you saying you did not want to drink any more of the antidote? Or that you did not want to be queen?

You dropped the empty glass on the bed table. “Pero,” you moaned, “make it stop. Please, _please_. Make it stop.” You sobbed, resting your forehead against his chest.

“That should have done it,” said Ballard. “All we need to do now is wait and see. If she makes it through the night, she will live.”

* * *

The sheriff arrived as quickly as he could. William greeted him at the door. “Thank you for arriving on such short notice.” He shook the sheriff’s hand cordially as the stable boy brought the sheriff’s horse into the stable.

“I had to come as soon as I heard the word treason. Where is the traitor?” asked the sheriff.

William explained that she was locked in the dungeon. The sheriff nodded. “Wise. She can do no harm there. Who is guarding her?”

“The footman who sent for you is. The most loyal servant Prince George has,” said William. “She has a silver tongue,” he explained, “and wanted nothing more than absolute power.”

The sheriff nodded again. “And the princess? What of her?” he asked.

William sighed. “She lives still, the person treating her has told us that poison loses its potency if it goes years without being used.”

The lawyer led the sheriff into the manor house, George coming up from the dungeon. “Has she said anything?” asked William. George shook his head.

“After she admitted to killing the king, she has not said a single word.”

The sheriff did not want to see Morwenna just yet. First he wanted to see you. “Can I see the princess? See if she can make a statement or appear at the trial?”

William and George exchanged a glance as Ballard entered the room, sweat beading down his face.

“She is resting, now.”

Shaking his head, the sheriff said, “All the same, I would like to see the damage that the traitor has inflicted.”

“Very well,” said George. “But Tovar will not be happy.”

Pero sat at your bedside, one of your hands wrapped in both of his, resting against his forehead. His head was bowed, almost in prayer.

You were so _cold_. It was so unlike you, usually so warm. You had been so warm whenever he buried himself in you.

In your sleep, you shivered. “I am right here, _princesa_ ,” Pero whispered, hoping that you could hear him. He wondered if you dreamt while you slept fitfully. “I am not going anywhere.” How true those words were.

He startled when he heard a throat clear behind him. He turned. Before him stood William, George, and a man that he did not recognize. “Who is this?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake you.

“This is the sheriff, here to formally arrest Morwenna and make a case for the court,” whispered William.

“It will be an open and shut case for the judge, given her admission and the number of witnesses,” said the sheriff, glancing at Pero and the way he was looking at you.

“She needs to _rest_ ,” said Pero, keeping his voice level. “She does not need all these people in her room.”

The sheriff sighed in acknowledgement. “I understand. Do you think she would speak at the trial? If she is well enough.”

Pero shrugged; he did not know. “That is up to the _princesa_. Not me.”

William spoke. “The sheriff will be in close communication with me. I can let him know if she makes a decision one way or the other.”

Pero glanced at everyone, mentally willing them to leave the two of you alone.

Yet another person at the door. It was the medic that Matthew had sent for a few hours ago.

“I have done all that there is to be done,” said Ballard when he saw the doctor being escorted in by William.

“We know that now,” said George, “but it never hurts to have confirmation.”

Pero nearly snarled when there was a tap on the door. “What now?” he grumbled. “ _Cielo_ , I promise, when all of this is said and done, we will live far away, where no one can bother you.” He ignored the nagging voice in his head that told him that you may decide to inherit the title of queen.

 _I don’t want to, I don’t want to._ Your words rang in his ears. _Make it stop. Please, please. Make it stop._

“What do you want?” Pero said, louder than he intended. Your eyes opened just as the doctor entered with Ballard hot on his heels.

“This is the doctor,” Ballard grumbled by way of introduction, clearly unimpressed. “Here to see if the princess will, in fact, live.”

You sighed. “Pero. What is happening?” you asked.

Pero shushed you gently, pressed his lips to your forehead. “The doctor is just going to make sure that everything is fine with you.”

Sighing sadly - you just wanted to be left alone - you nodded.

After what seemed to be an endless amount of time being poked and prodded and examined, the doctor finally left you alone. “If she makes it through the night, she will live.”

Ballard sputtered in the corner. That was exactly what he had said. Instead of feeling vindication, he felt annoyance.

Before Ballard could protest, William cut in. “Thank you, doctor.”

As the doctor was escorted back to his horse, Pero glared at everyone still remaining in the room that was not you. “Leave us be. She is weary. Fighting for her life. Let us be,” he snapped before turning back to you.

Weakly, you cupped his cheek with your palm. “Stay,” you whispered.

Pero nodded against your hand. “I am not going anywhere, _mi amor_.”

* * *

You were blissfully unaware of everything that was happening. Morwenna being arrested on charges of treason, endangerment, and neglect. Pero had filled the sheriff in on what Morwenna had done to you over the years when the sheriff came back to see the two of you for any details that had been missed.

Pero knew then in his heart that he could not wait for you to tell the sheriff, you needed your sleep, needed your energy to fight off any remnants of the poison in your system. So he had told the sheriff quietly.

The sheriff’s eyes had widened when Pero told him all that you had endured. Stranger still, to the sheriff, not knowing Pero as well as you did, as well as William did, was the way that this man loved you with all the tenderness in the world. As he stood at the door, he asked Pero, “Does she know? That you love her?”

Pero swallowed thickly. “I hope she does.”

Things changed for Morwenna after that. There would be no trial. The sheriff, William, George, Ballard, and Pero would stand before a judge and tell him the entire story as soon as possible. Later today if the judge was available.

“Wait,” said George as the four men waited to hear from the judge. “Her brother. Joseph.”

“Can you send word to have him arrested as well?” asked William, rubbing his eyes, “he is a key player in all of this as well. Though he may not have had the _mens rea_ , he certainly had the _actus reus_.”

The sheriff sent word immediately.

You slept on, Pero’s words floating over you faintly. “I will be back soon, _mi amor_ ,” he said quietly as he was summoned to the judge. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead.

It was fairly straightforward, what he had to do, what he had to say. The judge did not press him for any information that was irrelevant, waving away that Pero had once, briefly, worked for Morwenna in an attempt to kill you. The judge realized that Pero had changed his mind quickly once he understood what was going on, that he had never truly wanted to do the job in the first place. The judge knew that Pero loved you almost instantly, the way he spoke of you.

It was quicker than Pero expected. Part of him wanted the people of the village to see the traitorous queen put on trial and to pay for her misdeeds, but he knew. She did not deserve a spectacle. She deserved _nothing_. And he hoped that she knew that she deserved nothing.

Once William and the sheriff had said all they needed to say, the judge thought for a moment, before looking at Morwenna, who sat wordlessly at the table in the dining room where this sentencing trial was taking place. She had said nothing the entire trial.

“Fetch a priest,” said the judge evenly, sternly, “to perform her final confession. I find the defendant guilty on all charges and sentence her to be hanged by the neck until dead on the morrow. May God have mercy on her soul.”

Pero breathed a sigh of relief, hardly registering anything else that was going on. You were _free_ from her.

Without so much as a second glance at anyone else, he burst from the room once the judge had made it clear people were free to leave, returning to your side.

* * *

“Tovar,” William said, his hand on his shoulder.

Pero turned to look at his friend and brother-in-arms. “What?” he said sharply, tiredly.

“You have been at her side all day. For hours. You need to _rest_ ,” William urged.

Pero shook his head. “No. I will not leave her. Not until I know she is well.”

 _Not until she tells me to leave_.

William sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with his friend. “Very well, but try and get some rest if you can.”

You had been asleep for hours. Completely unaware of what was going on. But you did not look as though you were sleeping. You looked peaceful when you slept, warm. Calm.

Now, you looked sickly, almost like you were in a living death. Were it not for your heartbeat and your slowly, steadily rising and falling chest, Pero would have thought that you had died. Your face was sheened with sweat. Ballard, who had been by earlier, had told him that that was to be expected, you sweating the last of the poison off.

Pero took your hand in his hands again. “ _Mi cielo_. You are freezing. Usually you are the one warming me up, eh?” He attempted to chuckle, but it came out a sob of a breath instead.

Outside in the hall, the clock struck four in the morning.

“I love you,” Pero said. “And I am sorry that I could not say it sooner. More often.”

Two tears slipped down his face, dropping onto your cheeks.

“I know I said that I would leave once I knew that you were safe, but I find I cannot even bear the _thought_ of leaving you. It is a thought that I have not been able to bear for a long time. I will stay with you, _princesa_. For as long as you will have me. Even if you decide to inherit the throne. I want to… be with you, for evermore. I know I said I would keep you safe. I promised it. But I find I have failed you, and I am so sorry. I am so sorry, _mi amor._ ”

Exhaling shakily, Pero kissed your temple again, letting his tears fall into your hair, sobbing quietly into your shift.

He almost missed the squeeze of your hand in his. Almost. He pulled back from your to see you watching him intently. “ _Princesa,_ ” Pero breathed, tears drying on his cheek. You reached out and brushed them away. “How - how do you feel?”

You thought for a moment. “Like I have been poisoned.” Your voice was a little bit gravelly from disuse. “But I will live.”

Pero let out a sigh of relief that radiated through his entire body. “Thank God, _amor_.”

You leaned in to kiss him, missing the way his lips felt against yours. He kissed you gently, holding you as though you were the most precious item in the world.

When you broke apart, you spoke. “Did you mean it?” Too afraid to look him in the eye, in case he was just saying all those things out of fear. “What you said about…”

Pero tilted your face so that you could look at him. “Every single word, _cielo_. Where you go, I follow. I love you, _princesa_.” It felt so good to say it, to _hear_ it when you were awake.

You smiled shyly at him, biting your bottom lip. “I love you, too. But there is something that I must tell you.”

Pero’s heart rate quickened. “Tell me,” he breathed.

“I do not wish to be queen. I simply wish to be your wife and live a life of peace, away from the throne. If you will have me.”

Fresh tears in both your eyes, Pero chuckled. “ _Si, mi amor_. I will have you.”

And he kissed you with all the love and passion he had in his heart.

Pero knew there was much to tell you, all that had happened and was going to happen. But for right now, they could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cielo/Mi cielo = heaven/my heaven  
> Bruja = witch  
> Víbora = snake  
> Amor/Mi amor = love/my love  
> Princesa = princess  
> Si = yes  
> Mens rea = guilty mind  
> Actus reus = guilty actions


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end of this story! I have so loved writing this series. And it was a joy to read all of your lovely feedback. I will be back soon with the first chapter of my new Maxwell Lord fic, but for right now, enjoy the epilogue of breath of life!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Kissing, grief, minor guilt, implied/referenced/non-descriptve sex
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

Hands twined together, you and Pero rested together in your bed for some time. He had looked so worn out and exhausted when you woke to hear him. His voice had been cracked. Strained from exhaustion and emotion.

You watched as the man you loved, the man you now knew for certain loved you, slept. The worry was gone from his face. He looked peaceful in sleep, as you had so often thought.

Still slightly weak from your ordeal, you snuggled up to him. Pero grunted in his sleep as you played with his hair, running your fingers through the soft locks in a gentle manner.

How you loved this man. You sighed as he slept on beside you. It had been true, what you had said earlier. No part of you wanted to be the queen. You had never wanted to be queen, never expected to be named as one of the king’s heirs. You had thought that because you were not related by blood, it could never be a possibility.

George could do it. And he would do it well, you thought. You knew he would. And you could live peacefully with Pero.

Softly, so softly that you would not wake him, you pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” you whispered into his ear.

This reminded you of that morning not so very long ago, after you and he had first had your way with each other. Only now, you said it knowing that he loved you, too. That he was going to stay with you.

“I love you, too, _princesa_.” Pero’s voice was sleepy, thick with exhaustion and emotion.

You glanced at him with an apologetic gaze. “I am sorry. I did not want to wake you,” you said quietly, burrowing your face into his shirt. “You have hardly slept.”

Pero kissed your brow. “It does not matter. We have all the time in the world to rest,” he reassured you, stroking your cheek with his index finger. “How are you feeling?”

Truthfully, you did not know how to answer. You felt a great deal of things. Exhaustion. Relief. Love.

“Better. Still tired. But I feel better,” you decided. Pero nodded, a small smile of relief twitching on his lips.

“Good. You had me worried, _princesa_.” Pero’s voice was teasing, but his eyes belied his true worry, his true fear.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “It was not my intention.”

Pero kissed your forehead again. “ _Cielo_. You have nothing to be sorry for. It was that - that _bruja_ ’s fault entirely. You never have to see that woman again. She can no longer harm you.”

He had yet to tell you all that had happened in the past eighteen hours. At your curious gaze, he continued. “She admitted to treason. She is going to be hanged today for her crimes.”

You scrunched your brow in contemplation. Relief surged through you at Pero’s words. “I remember - vaguely -a sheriff? And a doctor?” You remembered other things. That concoction you had to drink. The effects of it. Pero’s words as he thought you sleeping.

It had been his tears that had woken you up. The ones that had fallen off his face and onto yours. You had heard what he had said before that moment, but that pushed you into wakefulness.

It was as if you had been floating between one world and the next. And his words were an anchor, holding you steady.

“A lot has happened,” you mused quietly. You felt no remorse for Morwenna. Only relief. Relief and pity. You knew that she did not deserve your pity, but you pitied her all the same. Above anything else, you felt a sense of freedom. From Morwenna and her iron grip, from the throne. Freedom to be with Pero.

“I should get Ballard. Make sure you are all right,” he interrupted your reverie.

You frowned. “Ballard?” you asked. Your memory of who had aided in your recovery was faint. You had assumed that it was a physician sent for by George or William. Not the man who had travelled here with the woman who had attempted to kill you.

Pero kissed you gently. “I have much to tell you,” he said.

You kissed him again. And again. “Pero,” you whispered. “Pero,” you _whined._ Pressing your lips to his neck, you moved closer to him, almost on top of him, your need for him suddenly overwhelming.

Pero, dear Pero, groaned quietly. “Not right at this moment, _cielo_.” When he saw your pouting gaze, he chuckled to himself. “I am glad to see you are regaining your strength, _mi amor_. I promise you, we will have all the time in the world to do that. But later. First we must see to it that you are fully well.”

You sighed, knowing Pero was right. “Very well.”

Ten minutes later, Ballard was inspecting you, looking you over for any trace remnants of the poison that had been making its way through you less than twenty-four hours ago. “I think all is in order,” said Ballard. “The worst of it has left her system. It might be a few days before you are feeling as you were before. But you will be perfectly fine once it has left your system.”

Though William and George were both pleased with this prognosis, Pero was still unsure. “You are positive? She will live?” he asked.

Ballard nodded. “I am positive. She would already be dead if she was not going to live from this.”

Finally, Pero allowed himself to feel the relief - the _joy_ \- of you surviving.

As the sun fully rose over the horizon, a new day dawning, he pressed his lips to yours, a promise of what was to come.

* * *

You were just finishing a small breakfast when you found out what happened the day before. Pero sat by your bedside, filling you in on all that had happened, your suspicions of Morwenna being the one to kill the king being confirmed. He held your hand as you wept for your late father figure, all that had happened over the past almost eight years, kissing the side of your face as he held your hand.

“She can no longer harm you, _princesa_. I promise it.” Pero’s voice cracked on the word _promise._

Drying your eyes with your free hand, you stroked Pero’s cheek. “Pero Tovar. Do not blame yourself for one moment for what happened to me.”

“I was not -”

“I know you, Pero. It was not your fault. You protect me. You take care of me. And you love me,” you said, moving the hand that was on his face to grip his other hand. “So don’t you dare - not for _one second_ \- blame yourself for something that was not your fault.”

Pero could not meet your gaze. “But I promised no harm would come to you while you were with me. And - and -”

It was your turn to kiss his forehead. “Pero. You said so yourself that it was her fault. Not mine. Not yours. Not William’s or George’s. Morwenna’s fault.”

Pero sniffed. “Forgive me, _amor_.”

Your thumb stroked the skin of his hand. “There is nothing to forgive. You are not at fault. I love you, Pero.” You sealed these words with a soft kiss to his lips.

It took a moment for him to respond, your words sinking in. But then he kissed you back. “I love you, _mi amor_ ,” Pero said against your lips, kissing you again. “And I intend to show you every day for the rest of our lives.”

You pull him into the bed, effectively caging yourself around his body. “Starting now?” you asked, a glint in your eye. You kissed him slowly, languidly.

“We should be careful, you are still -”

You interrupted him. “I will be fine,” you said, kissing your way across his face. “Ballard said so.”

“I will be gentle,” Pero promised as your lips found the spot where his neck and jaw met. It had been quite some time since he was able to shave. His beard tickled against your skin as he kissed your face. Very gently, he eased you against the mattress. “I will be gentle,” he repeated as you moved your hands up to his shoulders, bracing yourself against him.

“I know you, Pero,” you said. “I am not worried.”

Pero untied the lace of your shift. “Let me take care of you, _princesa_.”

Later, as you lay beside him, pleasantly tired and sore, the words slipped out before you could really think about them or think about stopping them. “Marry me.”

Pero was stunned. “Right now?”

You nodded. “As soon as possible. I do not want to wait any longer. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Pero let out a breath. “ _Princesa_. I never thought - never expected - Yes. Of course I will marry you. I never want to be parted from you again.”

Your lips met his as he repeated his answer over and over again. “Yes, _amor_ , yes.” You kissed each other over and over.

Before you could get too carried away with your kisses, there was a knock on the door. Pero groaned. It was William.

“Tovar, the priest is here to perform the final confession. She wants to see the princess.”

You and Pero shared a look of apprehension before you nod once. “Give me a few moments,” you said.

Pero walked in step next to you as you made your way down to the dungeons. You had never been down here before. It was the one place that was off-limits to you as a child, same with the dungeons at the palace.

“You do not have to do this,” Pero said as you clutched his hand in yours. “We can easily go and tell William and George your decision.”

You shook your head. “She cannot harm me any longer. I have nothing to fear from her.”

And it was true. There was nothing Morwenna could do. As you crossed the threshold, coming to the one occupied cell, the priest stopped you. “Be careful, princess,” he warned.

“I am not afraid,” you said. Morwenna scoffed from the cell, still believing you to be weakened from the poison. When you stepped into the light, she recoiled. “Morwenna,” you said evenly.

She repeated your name back to you. “I thought you were on death’s doorstep,” she said hoarsely.

“You cannot harm me, Morwenna. I am not afraid of you. And I want you to know that from this day on, I will never think of you ever again.”

Morwenna did not say anything. She simply stared at you in shock and awe for a moment before you turned to Pero. “I think now we can go speak with William and George. I have nothing more I need to say to her.”

* * *

“You are absolutely certain?” asked William as he set the document before you. “You have thought it through and are not acting out of haste?”

You nodded. “I am sure. I never envisioned myself to be the monarch. George will make a fine king, I am sure of it. He will be a fair and just ruler,” you said, glancing at your cousin.

“I will make uncle proud,” he said gravely as he watched you sign your name on the legal document, signing over your rights to the throne to George. “I promise,” he said.

“I know you will,” you replied, handing the legal document to William. He inspected it for a moment before nodding and handing it to George to sign. You held Pero’s hand in yours, a great weight having been lifted from your shoulders. Now, finally, you could live in peace, knowing that your father’s kingdom would be in good hands.

“What will you do?” asked William.

You and Pero shared a glance; you smiled at the man that you loved. “Live,” you said simply.

Just then, the priest entered the room. “It is done. Though she had nothing she wished to confess, I performed her last rights,” said the priest.

Pero got a look just then. “Father,” he said.

“Yes, son?” replied the priest.

Pero looked at you before addressing the priest again. “If you are not too busy, the _princesa_ and I were hoping that you might be able to marry us.”

Your heartbeat increased. You were really getting married to this man. This wonderful, grumpy, kind-hearted man.

The priest was flummoxed for just a moment. “It is not really customary, to perform a marriage ceremony without having read the banns first.”

William interrupted. “Oh, come on, Father! She is the princess! Surely you can make some exception.”

George nodded. “And as the king and cousin to the princess, it is of great importance to me as well.”

The priest smiled. “Well, when you put it like that,” he said. “It would be my honour.”

You glanced up at Pero. “Are we really doing this?” you asked, unable to contain your smile. It had been a confusing few days, but you were ready to start your new life properly with Pero.

“ _Si_ , we really are doing this…. _mi esposa_ ,” replied Pero, returning your smile with one of his own.

You had never given much thought when you were younger what your wedding would be like. You had assumed that it would be an elegant affair with many people and something that had been planned for months or even years.

You had never thought it would be an intimate affair with five people present. But you would not have it any other way, you thought, as you repeated the vows as the priest instructed you to.

As you looked into Pero’s eyes, filled with such love and affection for you, the feeling that you reciprocated in full, you knew that this was the exact way you wanted to get married. You did not need a fuss or a crowd. No big ceremony. Just you and the man that you loved.

“Do you have a ring for each other?” the priest prompted. You were expecting Pero to say no, which you would have been perfectly fine with. But then he pulled a ring from one of his many pockets.

“It was my mother’s,” Pero explained roughly as he held it in the palm of his hand.

Tears sprung to your eyes at the honour of wearing a family heirloom of Pero’s. You fumbled beneath your dress for a moment, producing the ring that you wore on a chain around your neck.

“This was the king’s from his first marriage. He gave it to me when I was young.”

There was a collective gasp from the room. “Are you sure?” Pero asked, whispering your name as he looked at the simple band.

You nodded wordlessly. “He would have liked you,” you said. “As I love you.” You slipped the ring on Pero’s finger. He did the same with his mother’s ring, placing it on your finger. They both fit perfectly.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife together. You may kiss your bride,” said the priest. Your lips met Pero’s for the first time as husband and wife.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Pero smiled. You were together, would be together for the rest of your lives.

* * *

The carriage jolted as it went over a bump in the road. Pero grumbled. “I still do not understand why your cousin insisted on a carriage to take us to the palace. It is less than three days’ journey by horseback.”

You squeezed his hand in commiseration. “I know. But he would not budge. And it is his coronation, after all,” you said, rolling your eyes.

It had been four months since you and Pero had gotten married. Four months since you and he had found that cottage where you had stayed at while you were on the run from Morwenna.

The cottage had never truly left your mind or Pero’s. It was perfect. You loved it, and it felt like home. After discovering that the original inhabitant was quite happy to stay with his six brothers, you and Pero decided to live there with the owner’s permission, which he had given enthusiastically.

In the time since then, George had started to prepare for his coronation. He was king in name only for the time being, but a king he was. The villages had already seen vast improvements from Morwenna’s reign. You knew it was meant to be him. You were more happy than you had ever been with Pero, and he was more happy than ever with you.

The two of you spent time together. Pero did woodworking and hunting to provide for you. You would help him where you could. Or you would read to him, helping him in his own reading skills.

It was a simple life. A happy life. A life that you would not trade for anything.

“Have you ever reconsidered?” Pero asked as the carriage neared the palace. The place you had not been back to since before your escape. The first thing George did as acting king was to release the prisoners in the cell tower who had been wrongfully imprisoned.

“Reconsidered what?” you asked, your brow creasing in a frown of confusion.

“Being the queen. Is there anything you want that you do not have?”

You cupped Pero’s face with your palm. “I have everything I need right here. I promise.”

Pero sensed there was more. “But?” he prompted. He knew you too well.

"There is one thing I want to do," you admitted, biting your lip coyly.

Your husband raised an eyebrow. "What is that?" he asked.

You shook your head. It was not possible after tomorrow.

" _Princesa_. What is it? You can tell me. Whisper it to me."

Leaning over, you whispered in his ear what it is you wanted to do. As you pulled back, you saw Pero's eyes darken, a smirk growing on his lips as he processed your words. " _Princesa_ ," he teased, faux-scandalized. You could not help but giggle.

“I will see what can be done,” Pero said as the carriage came to a stop in front of the courtyard. A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.

George greeted both of you with joy. It was the first time in four months that he had seen you two. “We are to have a party tonight! A celebration of all that is to come.” He smiled eagerly when he told you that he had invited Lady Eleanor and her family.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The same Lady Eleanor that you spent our youth making moon-eyes over?”

George nodded shyly as he guided you and Pero into the palace. It was much lighter and kinder than it had been the last time you were there.

As you passed the throne room to your bed chamber to prepare for the party - people were already beginning to arrive, the palace a bustling hive of people - you and your husband shared a glance.

“I will leave you to get prepared,” said George, needing to prepare himself as well.

An hour later, you and Pero were seated along with William, George and Lady Eleanor and her family. Dancing would be starting soon, and if dinner was any indication, Eleanor would spend the entire night dancing with George.

As dancing began, Pero stood. “Would you excuse us, William?” he asked, taking your hand in his. William nodded, preoccupied with a conversation with Lady Eleanor’s father.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked as Pero led you out of the Great Hall.

Pero shushed you. “You will see, _princesa_ ,” he said, a tease in his voice.

“The throne room?” you asked when the two of you arrived at your destination.

Pero led you closer to the throne. “Everyone is preoccupied with the party. No one will notice we are gone. And this is something that you wish to do. What _princesa_ wants, _princesa_ gets. Or in this case… _mi reina_ ,” Pero said, sitting down on the throne. You bit your lip for a split second, taking in the sight of Pero on the throne, contemplating what you had told him earlier.

You all but flung yourself into his arms, meeting his lips with yours in a bruising kiss. 

His arms hoisted around you, settling you against his lap as you kissed him, unlacing your dress expertly. “Pero,” you whispered as he pushed the skirt of your dress up, repositioning yourself as he began to work against you, in tandem with you.

“We will have to be quiet, _reina_ ,” Pero whispered in between kisses. “But I promise.” Another kiss. “That though I am a simple man.” You hooked your legs around his waist. “I will treat you like a queen.

* * *

“ _Mi amor_ ,” Pero said as you caught your breath.

You could only nod as you slumped against your husband, thoroughly spent, thoroughly pleased. “Pero,” you mumbled in response.

“We should get back to the party. People will begin to wonder where we are.”

You sighed. “We probably should.”

Pero chuckled as he helped you up from his lap. You kissed him before readjusting your dress. With any luck people would not notice the marks he had sucked onto your neck. “That was an excellent idea, _mi esposa_.”

You smiled at him in a coy way before helping him get back into his shirt. Taking your hand in his, you very begrudgingly left the throne room exactly as you found it. No one would be the wiser.

“Where did you go?” asked William as you sat back down at the table. It took you longer to get back to the great hall than it did to get to the throne room.

“Hmm?” you asked innocently, taking a sip of wine. “Go where? We were dancing.”

William shook his head. “I didn’t see you. You went off somewhere,” 

Pero frowned at his friend. “ _Amigo_ , you need your eyes checked.”

“Who needs their eyes checked?” asked George as he sat back down.  
William explained that the two of you went off somewhere and he didn’t know where you went.

“That is curious,” said George. “Where did you go?”

Very conveniently, you and Pero both took a sip of your drinks at the same time. “Nowhere,” said Pero. _“_ My wife just wanted to take me… on a tour of the palace.”

George and William exchanged a glance of skepticism but didn’t press the subject. They knew that they did not want to know.

“He can never find out,” you said that night after the celebrations were over and you were lying in bed next to your husband.

Pero grinned at you. “Do not worry, _princesa_. No one will ever know except us. And what a secret it is to keep.” He was thoroughly pleased with himself and with you.

The following day, it took all of your willpower not to burst out into laughter as George sat on the throne for the first time as king. You were able to disguise it as a cough as you and Pero shared a knowing glance. He squeezed your hand gently.

The celebration was not as festive as the night before, more formal tonight. Still, George spent a majority of the time speaking with Lady Eleanor. You suspected that there would be an announcement of marriage on the horizon.

When you and Pero left for your cottage the day after the coronation, you were relieved to be going home, to your true _home,_ with Pero. It was nice to see George and be in the palace again, but it was not the life for you. No, your life with Pero was the one that suited you best.

“ _Amor_ , wake up,” Pero’s voice said, easing you out of the doze you had fallen into. “We are home.” He pressed his lips to your forehead as your eyes fluttered open.

Smiling sleepily at him, you whispered, “How wonderful it is to be home with you, my love.” And you kissed him before he helped you down from the carriage, more than ready for a lifetime with him at your side.

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Princesa = princess  
> Cielo = heaven  
> Si = yes  
> Amor/mi amor = love/my love  
> Mi esposa = my wife  
> Reina/mi reina = queen/my queen  
> Amigo = friend


End file.
